


Peak (Call Time)

by melonsflesh



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Post-Canon, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonsflesh/pseuds/melonsflesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Saruhiko is abroad for a week and the closest things Misaki has to him are a chat window and Saruhiko’s night clothes under his pillow, they cope with the distance in their own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone on Twitter who put up with me while writing/editing this — this thing! ♥

Initially, Misaki hadn’t taken the news very well, despite being used to Saruhiko being practically snatched away from him, sometimes because of the most questionable and obscure reasons as a result of the many responsibilities Saruhiko was entrusted with, even as a now ‘regular officer’. But being — still — one of Scepter 4’s top three entailed having his ass dragged around all kind of governmental events. Sometimes, like this time, they would be held in the other end of the globe, where the — who would have thought, after a year of his almost imminent fate — still Captain of Scepter 4 and ex Blue King along with his main squad and the Prime Minister were to meet some security council group, in Washington.

Being the boyfriend of such a person meant Misaki had to roll with it.

Saruhiko had kept him updated through a few text messages before the plane took off, and Misaki could only imagine how cranky his boyfriend looked after a fourteen-hour flight. However, he sounded rather calm on the phone when he contacted Misaki once the plane touched down. In a way, it was to be expected, if his aggravating sleep habits were anything to go by. Misaki didn’t feel any more relieved though, feeling a tug at his chest as he sneaked into the staff room of his workplace to listen to Saruhiko’s hoarse voice telling him that it was two a.m. in America and reassuring him that he’d talk to him tomorrow, that the meetings were scheduled to last almost all day every day, and that he’d make time in the afternoon to talk to Misaki when it was morning in Tokyo.

Misaki wanted to know everything — if he had anything to eat, if he drank enough water, if he slept enough —, wanted to ask so much without sounding excessively overwhelming, but all he could focus on was the wear in Saruhiko’s words and how much he wanted to wrap his arms around Saruhiko’s stupid face and cradle his head into his chest. But it was two a.m. where his boyfriend was and he still had to make it to the hotel and unpack the few things Misaki had squeezed into his luggage — or not, knowing him, he’d probably just leave them there —, thus forcing them to exchange reluctant farewells. Temporary farewells, at least.

There was no point in dwelling on the sound of the line going dead and leaving a bitter emptiness in Misaki’s ears as he slid his headphones off his head; Saruhiko had arrived safely on land, and that was all that mattered.

All that was left was to wait a week.

A week without Saruhiko.

He could do it. He _had_ _done_ it, before, even if this time was definitely different. Misaki was adaptable, but never enough when it came to Saruhiko’s absence. He’d managed, before, but—

He frowned and found himself shaking his head, waving the stupid trail of thought away as he glanced down at his watch a last time, at the hands signaling one more hour until the end of his shift and until he could call it a day before he could talk to Saruhiko tomorrow.

That was what he thought when he got back home and slumped down into the bed after idly taking care of some chores, briefly wondering whether he should risk it and text Saruhiko right then and there or not. Half-curious and half-bored, Misaki tapped the side button of his watch and the usual holographic main screen popped up, floating over his left wrist. He inspected the small shortcut to Saruhiko’s chat window, staring at it for a whole minute.

Well, he might as well go and say ‘hi’. Saruhiko would read it later, eventually.

 

**[02/25 - 21:14] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** ull prob see this tomorrow

**[02/25 - 21:14] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** no wait today......

**[02/25 - 21:14] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** anyway

**[02/25 - 21:14] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** good look toorrow!

 

And he closed the window.

He was reaching for the TV control and couldn’t fucking believe his eyes when the green led light on the side of his watch started blinking — a new direct message — and when he reopened the window...

**[02/25 - 21:16] Saruhiko:**  
Tomorrow*

 

It was nine p.m. in Tokyo, and if Misaki’s calculations were right, it was... three, four a.m. for Saruhiko? Which was... really late?

“What the—”

Upon dragging the screen in front of him with a sweep of his right index finger, a holographic keyboard was immediately projected right below it for him to use with both hands.

Good. There was going to be some smashing.

 

**[02/25 - 21:17] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** SARU???

**[02/25 - 21:17] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** ha

**[02/25 - 21:17] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** ha

**[02/25 - 21:17] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** really

**[02/25 - 21:17] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** what time is it u still awake??

**[02/25 - 21:18] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** why r u awake??

**[02/25 - 21:19] Saruhiko:  
** Jet lag.

**[02/25 - 21:19] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** what time is it?

**[02/25 - 21:20] Saruhiko:  
** 4:20

**[02/25 - 21:20] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** asjdgasjas its 4 am!!

**[02/25 - 21:20] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** god saruhiko go to sleep!!!

**[02/25 - 21:21] Saruhiko:  
** What part of “jet lag” did your brain not understand?

**[02/25 - 21:21] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** dont give me that crap!!

**[02/25 - 21:22] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** u have a meeting tomorrow?

**[02/25 - 21:23] Saruhiko:  
** You’re asking me that?

**[02/25 - 21:23] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** im askin u to sleep. u have a meeting

**[02/25 - 21:24] Saruhiko:  
** I don’t want to go. It’s not for me anyway.

**[02/25 - 21:24] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** i kno u dumbass, but u have to and ur alrdy in the other side of the world and u better make it worth it

**[02/25 - 21:25] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** or ill kick u

**[02/25 - 21:26] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** i stg ill fly over there and kick u

**[02/25 - 21:26] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** the hell did u take a plane for

The room fell... more silent than it already was, and so did the jumble of thoughts in Misaki’s head. He obviously didn’t fancy the idea of Saruhiko being so far away, but he was trying not to think too hard about it and he’d managed to keep his mood fairly light and collected. On the other hand, Saruhiko was being his usual difficult self. A classic.

The next time his dumb boyfriend replied, however, Misaki felt the tense muscles in his body loosen up and didn’t find himself mumbling his responses as he typed them out.

 

**[02/25 - 21:28] Saruhiko:  
** Fine. I’ll try to sleep.

**[02/25 - 21:28] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** good

**[02/25 - 21:29] Saruhiko:  
** I was actually about to when you talked to me.

**[02/25 - 21:29] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** uh thats

**[02/25 - 21:29] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** hard to believe

**[02/25 - 21:30] Saruhiko:  
** That’s not my problem.

**[02/25 - 21:30] Saruhiko:  
** Good night then, Misaki.

 

Okay.

On second thoughts, something about that temporary farewell raised a tiny ache within him.

**[02/25 - 21:31] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** uh are u rlly going to sleep?

**[02/25 - 21:32] Saruhiko:  
** Do you want me to sleep or not?

**[02/25 - 21:32] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** well

**[02/25 - 21:32] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** yeah

**[02/25 - 21:32] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** yeah its been a long day for u

 

_But I also want to keep talking with you._

_Ugh._

_Stupid meetings._

_Stupid plane._

_Stupid Saruhiko._

**[02/25 - 21:33] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** um

**[02/25 - 21:33] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** so i can talk to you tomorrow morning

**[02/25 - 21:34] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** right?

**[02/25 - 21:34] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** that alright?

**[02/25 - 21:35] Saruhiko:  
** Yes.

**[02/25 - 21:35] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** i mean for you

**[02/25 - 21:35] Saruhiko:  
** It’s fine. I wouldn’t say so if it wasn’t.

**[02/25 - 21:36] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** right

**[02/25 - 21:36] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** okay

**[02/25 - 21:36] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** good night saruhiko!

**[02/25 - 21:37] Saruhiko:  
** Good night.

**[02/25 - 21:37] Saruhiko:  
** Misaki.

**[02/25 - 21:38] ~Yatagarasu~:  
** night!

 

When it was certain there wouldn’t be any more responses coming, Misaki flicked the screen away and let his body slide down on the bed, rolling onto his side and tucking an arm under his pillow when his fingers grazed over a much softer cotton.

He hadn’t bothered to take them out — Saruhiko’s night clothes were still there, peeking from under his pillow’s twin, both the navy blue long-sleeve shirt and the gray sweatpants.

They kind of smelled like him, both his pillow and his clothes, and Misaki reveled a bit in that, his lips curling up into a little smile.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

   

> _~Yatagarasu~ has changed his screen name to ~Yatagarasuave~._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/26 - 07:18] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** im up

**[02/26 - 07:18] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** morning!! :D

**[02/26 - 07:23] Saruhiko:  
** Morning.

**[02/26 - 07:23] Saruhiko:  
** You’re earlier than usual.

**[02/26 - 07:25] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** ah yeah

**[02/26 - 07:25] Saruhiko:  
** Heh.

**[02/26 - 07:25] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** what?

**[02/26 - 07:26] Saruhiko:  
** Nothing.

**[02/26 - 07:27] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** uh

**[02/26 - 07:28] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** u slept well??

**[02/26 - 07:29] Saruhiko:  
** I managed.

**[02/26 - 07:45] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** did u change ur prof pic?

**[02/26 - 07:47] Saruhiko:  
** No shit.

**[02/26 - 07:48] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** heh

**[02/26 - 07:48] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** u managed u said but ur cranky

**[02/26 - 07:56] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** never saw that one

**[02/26 - 07:58] Saruhiko:  
** We were made to wait an hour before another meeting. I was bored.

**[02/26 - 08:01] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** so u took selfies

**[02/26 - 08:17] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** why do u keep doing that

**[02/26 - 08:20] Saruhiko:  
** Doing what?

**[02/26 - 08:22] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** hold on takin the bus

**[02/26 - 08:25] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** that thing with ur knives

**[02/26 - 08:27] Saruhiko:  
** No reason.

**[02/26 - 08:28] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** but its in ur MOUTH

**[02/26 - 08:28] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** theres gotta be a reason

**[02/26 - 08:34] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** is that one even disinfected

**[02/26 - 08:35] Saruhiko:  
** Of course it is.

**[02/26 - 08:36] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** um

**[02/26 - 08:36] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** okay

**[02/26 - 08:36] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** that sounds fake but

**[02/26 - 08:43] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** hey

**[02/26 - 08:43] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** is that a mirrpr

**[02/26 - 08:43] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** mirror*

**[02/26 - 08:47] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** omg is that a washroom??

**[02/26 - 08:48] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** O FMG UWERE TAKING SEL FIEES IN A WHASHROOM??

**[02/26 - 08:48] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** LOL

**[02/26 - 08:51] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** gttin off bus

**[02/26 - 08:55] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** hey saru

**[02/26 - 08:59] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** saruhiko?

**[02/26 - 09:12] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** hey

**[02/26 - 09:16] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** hello?

**[02/26 - 09:18] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** earth to saruhiko?

**[02/26 - 09:20] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** think theres some interference

**[02/26 - 09:21] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** ur not answering in a flash like u always do

**[02/26 - 09:22] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** theres no flush

**[02/26 - 09:24] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** cuz its a washroom haha u get it

**[02/26 - 09:29] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** kay i have to get rdy now ppl are ordering alrdy

**[02/26 - 09:38] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** okay saru what the hell

**[02/26 - 09:40] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** u busy takin selfies again

**[02/26 - 09:40] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
**?

**[02/26 - 09:44] Saruhiko:  
** Piss off.

**[02/26 - 09:46] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** lol saruu! wb

**[02/26 - 09:49] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** g2g now for real

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

**[02/26 - 09:54] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** ilu

**[02/26 - 09:54] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** /////

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/26 - 16:32] Saruhiko:  
** KILL ME.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/26 - 17:07] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
**....i thought we were over that

**[02/26 - 17:08] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** srry couldnt text before i was serving

**[02/26 - 17:08] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** theyre all gone now

**[02/26 - 17:08] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** poof

**[02/26 - 17:08] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** weird

**[02/26 - 17:10] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** whats up??

**[02/26 - 17:14] Saruhiko:  
** STUPID IDIOTS DRAGGED US ON A TOUR ALL AROUND THIS STUPID CITY

**[02/26 - 17:14] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** eek ur yellin

**[02/26 - 17:14] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** cool u took pictures?

**[02/26 - 17:15] Saruhiko:  
** IT’S NOT COOL MISAKI

**[02/26 - 17:15] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
**!!!

**[02/26 - 17:15] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** kick them!!

**[02/26 - 17:15] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** those assholes

**[02/26 - 17:16] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** wait why not cool

**[02/26 - 17:16] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
**??

**[02/26 - 17:17] Saruhiko:  
** I had to babysit Domyoji for an hour.

**[02/26 - 17:17] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** the pop art guy??

**[02/26 - 17:17] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** aww

**[02/26 - 17:17] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** ur so good saruhiko

**[02/26 - 17:17] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** too good too pure

**[02/26 - 17:18] Saruhiko:  
** Shut up.

**[02/26 - 17:18] Saruhiko:  
** He got bitten by a raccoon.

**[02/26 - 17:19] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** ow like a raccoon dog??

**[02/26 - 17:19] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** dammit...... that dogyoji

**[02/26 - 17:19] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** lol

**[02/26 - 17:22] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
**......

**[02/26 - 17:22] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** not funny srry

**[02/26 - 17:23] Saruhiko:  
** Glad you noticed yourself.

**[02/26 - 17:23] Saruhiko:  
** Is your brain evolving in my absence?

**[02/26 - 17:23] Saruhiko:  
** I’m tired.

**[02/26 - 17:24] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** shut upp

**[02/26 - 17:24] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** yeah maybe it is

**[02/26 - 17:24] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** waiT NO SHUT UP

**[02/26 - 17:24] Saruhiko:  
** I can’t feel my legs.

**[02/26 - 17:24] Saruhiko:  
** I can’t feel anything, actually.

**[02/26 - 17:25] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** omg saru

**[02/26 - 17:25] Saruhiko:  
** Text me at 17 pm tomorrow.

**[02/26 - 17:25] Saruhiko:  
** I’ll be free then.

**[02/26 - 17:25] Saruhiko:  
** For half an hour...

**[02/26 - 17:25] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** sure!! my time or urs?

**[02/26 - 17:25] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** wow ur schedule rlly sucks

**[02/26 - 17:26] Saruhiko:  
** Mine.

**[02/26 - 17:26] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** so that should be at.....

**[02/26 - 17:27] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** 6?

**[02/26 - 17:27] Saruhiko:  
** 10

**[02/26 - 17:28] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** kay

**[02/26 - 17:29] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** 10pm?

**[02/26 - 17:29] Saruhiko:  
** TEN AM

**[02/26 - 17:29] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** fuck srry gotcha i forgot

**[02/26 - 17:30] Saruhiko:  
** I can’t seeeeee.

**[02/26 - 17:30] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** saruhiko this is the first time u sound so ded

**[02/26 - 17:30] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** im scared

**[02/26 - 17:31] Saruhiko:  
** It’s fine. Just need some sleep.

**[02/26 - 17:31] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** finally u realized that....

**[02/26 - 17:32] Saruhiko:  
** Mmm, I’m going now.

**[02/26 - 17:32] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** pls do.. good night saru

**[02/26 - 17:32] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** dont push urself

**[02/26 - 17:32] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** u like to do that

**[02/26 - 17:33] Saruhiko:  
** That’s easy to say.

**[02/26 - 17:33] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** well its easy to see

**[02/26 - 17:33] ~Yatagarasuave~:  
** just dont

**[02/26 - 17:35] Saruhiko:  
** I’ll try.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

   

> _~Yatagarasuave~ has changed his screen name to Yatagarawesome!._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/27 - 10:07] Yatagarawesome!:  
** saruhiko

**[02/27 - 10:07] Yatagarawesome!:  
** wheres my pic

**[02/27 - 10:08] Yatagarawesome!:  
** also good mornin

**[02/27 - 10:08] Yatagarawesome!:  
** wheres my breakfast pic

**[02/27 - 10:11] Yatagarawesome!:  
** u were supposed to send it to me like ten hours ago

**[02/27 - 10:11] Yatagarawesome!:  
** two days ago actually

**[02/27 - 10:12] Yatagarawesome!:  
** im gonna pretend yesterday didnt exist bc u were tired af n all but its wednesday already!!

**[02/27 - 10:20] Yatagarawesome!:  
** saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

**[02/27 - 10:20] Yatagarawesome!:  
** ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

**[02/27 - 10:20] Saruhiko:  
** WHAT

**[02/27 - 10:21] Yatagarawesome!:  
** hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

**[02/27 - 10:21] Yatagarawesome!:  
** DONT YELL

**[02/27 - 10:22] Saruhiko:  
** Are you serious?

**[02/27 - 10:22] Saruhiko:  
** I thought you weren’t serious.

**[02/27 - 10:22] Saruhiko:  
** When are you ever serious.

**[02/27 - 10:22] Saruhiko:  
** I’m not doing this.

**[02/27 - 10:23] Yatagarawesome!:  
** but saru!!

**[02/27 - 10:24] Saruhiko:  
** Do you know how bizarre it is to take a picture of some goddamn food? And with everyone watching? No, you don’t.

**[02/27 - 10:24] Yatagarawesome!:  
** but

**[02/27 - 10:24] Yatagarawesome!:  
** hey dont swear @ the food!!

**[02/27 - 10:24] Saruhiko:  
** You don’t, do you?

**[02/27 - 10:25] Yatagarawesome!:  
** but

**[02/27 - 10:25] Saruhiko:  
** Because I don’t ask you to do stupid things like these.

**[02/27 - 10:25] Yatagarawesome!:  
** aw dont be so fussy

**[02/27 - 10:25] Saruhiko:  
** Scratch that. It’s not bizarre. It’s ridiculous.

**[02/27 - 10:26] Yatagarawesome!:  
** i just wanna know what kind of breakfast theyre givin u.

**[02/27 - 10:26] Yatagarawesome!:  
** and lunch

**[02/27 - 10:27] Yatagarawesome!:  
** but breakfast comes first

**[02/27 - 10:27] Yatagarawesome!:  
** it better be good or ill kcik them

**[02/27 - 10:27] Yatagarawesome!:  
** kick*

**[02/27 - 10:28] Saruhiko:  
** Stop saying you’ll kick everybody, Misaki.

**[02/27 - 10:29] Yatagarawesome!:  
** mm now send me that pic

**[02/27 - 10:31] Yatagarawesome!:  
** dont make me call that boss of urs

**[02/27 - 10:31] Saruhiko:  
** You wouldn’t dare.

**[02/27 - 10:31] Yatagarawesome!:  
** i could ask for his phone number.. ur hq is pretty close by

**[02/27 - 10:33] Yatagarawesome!:  
** im kidding

**[02/27 - 10:34] Yatagarawesome!:  
** or am i

**[02/27 - 10:35] Yatagarawesome!:  
** no im kidding

**[02/27 - 10:35] Yatagarawesome!:  
** as if id put a foot in there

**[02/27 - 10:36] Yatagarawesome!:  
** but dammit saru

**[02/27 - 10:36] Yatagarawesome!:  
** we agreed on this

**[02/27 - 10:36] Yatagarawesome!:  
** back home when i was packin ur stuff did u forget???

**[02/27 - 10:37] Yatagarawesome!:  
** we had a deal..

**[02/27 - 10:40] Saruhiko:  
** No. You agreed on it yourself, when I was in the shower.

**[02/27 - 10:40] Saruhiko:  
** And I have to go.

**[02/27 - 10:40] Saruhiko:  
** The rest of the guests arrived.

**[02/27 - 10:41] Yatagarawesome!:  
** SDJKFJKSDJKSDFJKSDF

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

   

> _Yatagarawesome! has changed his screen name to Yata._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

**[02/27 - 12:50] Saruhiko:  
** What’s with the nickname.

**[02/27 - 12:52] Yata:  
** its not a nickname its my name

**[02/27 - 12:52] Saruhiko:  
** My bad. What happened to your other nicknames?

**[02/27 - 12:59] Saruhiko:  
**...

**[02/27 - 12:59] Saruhiko:  
** Are you mad now?

**[02/27 - 13:00] Yata:  
** imnot!!!

**[02/27 - 13:01] Saruhiko:  
** You are.

**[02/27 - 13:01] Yata:  
** then why u ask??

**[02/27 - 13:02] Saruhiko:  
** Misaki...

**[02/27 - 13:06] Saruhiko:  
** Hey.

**[02/27 - 13:10] Saruhiko:  
** Oh, come on.

**[02/27 - 13:15] Saruhiko:  
** Misaki.

**[02/27 - 13:23] Saruhiko:  
** Fine.

   

> _Saruhiko is sending a file._
> 
> _Accept “breakfast-table-healthy-food-23191090.jpg” (260KB)?_
> 
> _YES / NO_
> 
> _YES_
> 
> _File accepted._

**[02/27 - 13:24] Saruhiko:  
** You’re an idiot.

  

> _Downloading file..._
> 
> _File received._

**[02/27 - 13:26] Saruhiko:  
** Don’t open it just yet.

  

> _Open file “breakfast-table-healthy-food-23191090.jpg”?_
> 
> _YES / NO_

**[02/27 - 13:27] Yata:  
** :)

**[02/27 - 13:27] Yata:  
** eh why not?

  

> _NO_

**[02/27 - 13:28] Saruhiko:  
** It’s embarrassing. You can open it later.

**[02/27 - 13:28] Saruhiko:  
** You can do that for me, right?

**[02/27 - 13:29] Yata:  
** yeah!!

**[02/27 - 13:29] Yata:  
** of course

**[02/27 - 13:30] Saruhiko:  
** Mm.

**[02/27 - 13:30] Saruhiko:  
** By the way.

**[02/27 - 13:30] Saruhiko:  
** Why do you have this much free time?

**[02/27 - 13:31] Yata:  
** its quiet today..

**[02/27 - 13:32] Saruhiko:  
** It’s quiet here too...

**[02/27 - 13:33] Saruhiko:  
** We’re taking a break to have supper.

**[02/27 - 13:33] Saruhiko:  
** And then the Captain wants to take us to a museum...

**[02/27 - 13:34] Yata:  
** oh uh a.... museum?

**[02/27 - 13:35] Yata:  
** have fun?

**[02/27 - 13:36] Saruhiko:  
** Mm.

**[02/27 - 13:37] Saruhiko:  
** You want a picture of that too?

**[02/27 - 13:37] Saruhiko:  
** Supper, I mean.

**[02/27 - 13:38] Yata:  
** nah

**[02/27 - 13:38] Yata:  
** i trust u

**[02/27 - 13:39] Yata:  
** :)

**[02/27 - 13:41] Saruhiko:  
** Okay.

**[02/27 - 13:41] Saruhiko:  
** We’re leaving now. I’ll talk to you later...

**[02/27 - 13:42] Yata:  
** yeah..

**[02/27 - 13:44] Saruhiko:  
** Hit me up later.

**[02/27 - 13:44] Saruhiko:  
** When you get back home.

**[02/27 - 13:44] Yata:  
** uh okay

**[02/27 - 13:45] Yata:  
** u sure?

**[02/27 - 13:45] Saruhiko:  
** I might be awake.

**[02/27 - 13:46] Yata:  
** i rather u not srsly..

**[02/27 - 13:47] Yata:  
** tho I wanna keep talking to u..

**[02/27 - 13:48] Saruhiko:  
** It’s fine.

**[02/27 - 13:48] Saruhiko:  
** I want to.

**[02/27 - 13:51] Yata:  
** hey saruhiko

**[02/27 - 13:51] Saruhiko:  
**?

**[02/27 - 13:52] Yata:  
** come back soon

**[02/27 - 13:55] Saruhiko:  
** I can’t help that.

**[02/27 - 13:56] Yata:  
** yeah i know

**[02/27 - 13:57] Yata:  
** kay have fun!!

**[02/27 - 13:57] Saruhiko:  
** Really.

**[02/27 - 13:59] Saruhiko:  
** I’ll try.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Misaki missed him.

He missed making him breakfast in the morning and hearing his lazy voice complaining about petty things, and it sucked that he felt himself slowly falling in love with the steady blinking of the three dots next to the little pencil beside Saruhiko’s screen name as Saruhiko typed out a new message.

He’d watch them mesmerized, the foretelling ‘is writing’ below them soothing the tiny knots in his chest where Saruhiko’s hands were supposed to wander aimlessly at night.

He missed him so much.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

> _Open file “breakfast-table-healthy-food-23191090.jpg”?_
> 
> _YES / NO_
> 
> _YES_

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/27 - 15:41] Yata:  
** YOU SON OF AN ASSHOLE

**[02/27 - 15:49] Saruhiko:  
** last minute meeting can’t txt rn

**[02/27 - 15:52] Yata:  
** IS THIS FROM GOOGGLE? WHERE TH EFUCK DID U GETT HIS PITCURE FROM??

**[02/27 - 15:52] Yata:  
** PICTURE

**[02/27 - 15:54] Saruhiko:  
** Are you doubting me?

**[02/27 - 15:55] Yata:  
** THERES A FUCKIGN WATERMARK ON IT SARUHIKO

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/27 - 17:03] Saruhiko:  
**

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

                                               

**[02/27 - 20:35] Yata:  
** im home.

**[02/27 - 20:39] Saruhiko:**  
Wb

**[02/27 - 20:39] Yata:  
** thanks

**[02/27 - 20:42] Yata:  
** so

**[02/27 - 20:42] Yata:  
** how was ur day? night?

**[02/27 - 20:43] Saruhiko:**  
Okay

**[02/27 - 20:43] Yata:  
** just okay?

**[02/27 - 20:43] Yata:  
** the museum?

**[02/27 - 20:44] Saruhiko:**  
Cancelled

**[02/27 - 20:44] Saruhiko:**  
Misaki

**[02/27 - 20:44] Yata:  
** oh

**[02/27 - 20:44] Yata:  
**?

**[02/27 - 20:46] Saruhiko:**  
Nothing

**[02/27 - 20:46] Yata:  
** um ok?

**[02/27 - 20:46] Saruhiko:**  
You can keep talking

**[02/27 - 20:46] Yata:  
** eeh so what do i say?

**[02/27 - 20:47] Saruhiko:**  
Anything

**[02/27 - 20:47] Yata:  
** um okay

**[02/27 - 20:48] Yata:  
**??????????

**[02/27 - 20:48] Yata:  
** um

**[02/27 - 20:48] Yata:  
** something wrong??

**[02/27 - 20:48] Saruhiko:**  
No

**[02/27 - 20:48] Saruhiko:**  
I’m trying to

**[02/27 - 20:48] Yata:  
** to.....

**[02/27 - 20:48] Yata:  
** to sleep?

**[02/27 - 20:50] Saruhiko:**  
Yeah

**[02/27 - 20:50] Yata:  
** oh kay

**[02/27 - 20:50] Yata:  
** its rlly late tho..

**[02/27 - 20:50] Yata:  
** do you..... still wanna talk.. or want me to..

**[02/27 - 20:51] Saruhiko:**  
It’s fine

**[02/27 - 20:51] Saruhiko:**  
It helps

**[02/27 - 20:51] Yata:  
** kay

**[02/27 - 20:52] Yata:  
** if me talkin helps u sleep then

**[02/27 - 20:52] Yata:  
** more like.... me talkin and u readin or whatever

**[02/27 - 20:53] Yata:  
** ummm

**[02/27 - 20:54] Yata:  
** i saw an eagle today

**[02/27 - 20:54] Yata:  
** fuck this is hard

**[02/27 - 20:58] Yata:  
** cant believe its already been two days

**[02/27 - 20:58] Yata:  
** i umm

**[02/27 - 20:59] Yata:  
** its weird

**[02/27 - 21:00] Yata:  
** it feels a lot like

**[02/27 - 21:00] Yata:  
** before u know

**[02/27 - 21:01] Yata:  
** when we stayed up talking like this

**[02/27 - 21:01] Yata:  
** on school nights

**[02/27 - 21:01] Yata:  
** we used to send each other screens of our high scores on those games

**[02/27 - 21:01] Yata:  
** so we could beat each other

**[02/27 - 21:02] Yata:  
** instead of sendING RANDOM PICTURES FROM GOOGLE

**[02/27 - 21:02] Yata:  
** with watermarks on it

**[02/27 - 21:02] Yata:  
** (thats cheap u know im not over that)

**[02/27 - 21:06] Yata:  
** um

**[02/27 - 21:07] Yata:  
** so ur awake but not rlly are u

**[02/27 - 21:09] Yata:  
** u fell asleep didnt u

**[02/27 - 21:10] Yata:  
** saru?

**[02/27 - 21:11] Yata:  
** mm

**[02/27 - 21:11] Yata:  
** i wanna call u

**[02/27 - 21:11] Yata:  
** but i dunno if ur eh alone?

**[02/27 - 21:11] Yata:  
** u havent told me if ur sharing the room or what

**[02/27 - 21:11] Yata:  
** txting is more easy but..

**[02/27 - 21:12] Yata:  
** tomorrow maybe?

**[02/27 - 21:12] Yata:  
** if u can

**[02/27 - 21:12] Yata:  
** well if i can too..

**[02/27 - 21:12] Yata:  
** inspections gonna come tomorrow

**[02/27 - 21:12] Yata:  
** we have everything in order tho

**[02/27 - 21:13] Yata:  
** but everyones gonna be all jumpy af

**[02/27 - 21:13] Yata:  
** orz

**[02/27 - 21:13] Yata:  
** and theres a big ass reservation the day after tomorrow if everythin goes ok

**[02/27 - 21:13] Yata:  
** orz

**[02/27 - 21:18] Yata:  
** i love you

**[02/27 - 21:18] Yata:  
** thought u should know

**[02/27 - 21:18] Yata:  
** u prob know

**[02/27 - 21:18] Yata:  
** u just like being an ass

**[02/27 - 21:18] Yata:  
** ha now im burying this

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** under lots of messages

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** ur so lazy u wont read them all

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** am i right am i right

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** lol

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** okay

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** STARTING

**[02/27 - 21:19] Saruhiko:  
** Oh, please.

**[02/27 - 21:19] Yata:  
** NOWSADASHGD

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** ASDGJKH

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** ASDAS

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** AASDSD

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** DAS

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** SARU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** FUCK

**[02/27 - 21:20] Saruhiko:  
** I can call you, if you want.

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** FUCK

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** WHY DO YOU

**[02/27 - 21:20] Yata:  
** GO TO SLEEP ALREADYY

**[02/27 - 21:21] Yata:  
** wait rlly?

**[02/27 - 21:21] Saruhiko:  
** I’m on it.

**[02/27 - 21:21] Saruhiko:  
** And yeah.

**[02/27 - 21:21] Saruhiko:  
** Tomorrow though...

**[02/27 - 21:21] Yata:  
** yeah

**[02/27 - 21:21] Yata:  
** yeah!!

**[02/27 - 21:22] Saruhiko:  
** Desperate to hear me that much~?

**[02/27 - 21:22] Yata:  
** yeah

**[02/27 - 21:22] Yata:  
** askdhsdaj

**[02/27 - 21:22] Yata:  
** hey!!

**[02/27 - 21:22] Yata:  
** shut up

**[02/27 - 21:22] Yata:  
** so what sue me

**[02/27 - 21:23] Yata:  
** its..... normal isnt it???

**[02/27 - 21:23] Saruhiko:  
** Don’t get so defensive.

**[02/27 - 21:23] Saruhiko:  
** I want to hear you too.

**[02/27 - 21:23] Yata:  
** saruhiko..

**[02/27 - 21:23] Saruhiko:  
** You better screencap that because I’m not going to repeat it.

**[02/27 - 21:23] Yata:  
** -_-

**[02/27 - 21:24] Saruhiko:  
** Anyway, your little... performance worked.

**[02/27 - 21:24] Yata:  
** im glad.. u gonna sleep?

**[02/27 - 21:24] Saruhiko:  
** I’m taking a shower first.

**[02/27 - 21:24] Yata:  
** isnt it a bit late for that?

**[02/27 - 21:24] Saruhiko:  
** It’s fine.

**[02/27 - 21:24] Yata:  
** kay then

**[02/27 - 21:24] Saruhiko:  
** Good night then, Misaki~

**[02/27 - 21:24] Yata:  
** night u dumb proud dumbass

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

   

> _Yata has changed his screen name to Yatagarasue me!._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/27 - 23:24] Yatagarasue me!:  
** err

**[02/27 - 23:24] Yatagarasue me!:  
** so how do u screencap things?

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/28 - 07:41] Saruhiko:  
** It doesn’t have that feature.

**[02/28 - 07:42] Saruhiko:  
** Morning.

> _Saruhiko is calling._
> 
> _Missed call from Saruhiko at 07:44._

**[02/28 - 07:44] Saruhiko:  
** Weird.

> _Saruhiko is calling._
> 
> _Missed call from Saruhiko at 07:50._

**[02/28 - 07:53] Saruhiko:  
** You slept in, didn’t you?

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

“Fuck!”

Misaki felt it was the longest he’d slept in days, probably because he slept through his alarm.

“Shit!”

There were also four unread messages and two missed calls from Saruhiko.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His movements were frenzied as he threw his clothes on, choosing to skip on breakfast and ignore the noisy grumble in his stomach as he gripped his backpack and grabbed his keys, patting his pants pockets hastily to make sure he had everything he needed before dashing out of the apartment like a bolt and typing out a few quick responses as he practically, very ungracefully, glided down the stairs.

 

**[02/28 - 08:21] Yatagarasue me!:  
** ISLEPT INN

**[02/28 - 08:21] Yatagarasue me!:  
** IMRUNNINLAAAAAATEEEEE

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/28 - 08:34] Yatagarasue me!:  
** takin bus

 

He hadn’t forgotten about Saruhiko’s calls. Saruhiko was supposed to call him, which he did, and Misaki was supposed to pick up — which he had _not_ , yet — and once he sank down into the bus seat, he took a deep breath, attempting to regain some control over his heartbeat and his voice before sending out another message.

**[02/28 - 08:37] Yatagarasue me!:  
** kay took the bus now

> _Saruhiko is calling._
> 
> _Accept call?_
> 
> _YES / NO_

 

Misaki felt his chest flutter, a mix of excitement and a bit of nervousness washing over him as one of his hands gripped the headphones around his neck tightly. It was so absurd, that the thought of hearing Saruhiko after the last call he got from him and three days of reading his messages with his voice inside his head could evoke such strong emotions within him all of a sudden. He blamed it on all the commotion from that morning, on the health inspectors that were to visit his workplace, and on the sweat beginning to gather around his neck, chilling the exposed skin between his scarf and the base of his nape.

His fingers were twitching a little when he slid his headphones on and waited for the telltale confirmation of the connection between them and the application in his watch. After switching on the microphone at the back of the ear pads, he accepted the call with a tender smile.

 

 

> _YES_
> 
> _Call accepted._

_“Congratulations on almost losing your job, Misaki.”_

_Fuck._

He knew what was coming, knew the cords of that languid voice, how they worked and how they glided in the air and how the notes of the taunting behind them went, yet his heart gave a little stutter. He’d missed it — all that.

“Don’t be a prick,” Misaki grumbled, his little smile collapsing as he attempted to be as irritated as he should. Well, probably. “I made it in time. Well... just barely.”

_“Did you lock the door?”_

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was a little snicker on the other side of the line. _“What_ _kept you up so late last night, anyway?”_

“Huh? Nothing.”

_“So, it wasn’t your little declaration of love?”_

Misaki felt his face grow hot — no matter how normal that _declaration_ was, that insinuation, combined with the thoughts that had been pecking at his head before and after picking up the call somehow made him feel a bit bashful and warm, the chilling sensation in his neck long forgotten.

“Sh-shut up,” he said, cupping a hand over his mouth to muffle his voice and avoid attracting too much unwanted attention. “As if I couldn’t sleep because of that,” he muttered hastily, words tumbling out in a quick shortness of breath.

It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t help occasionally checking his watch as he dozed off to see if there were any new messages, just in case. But he wasn’t going to say that.

_“Are you talking from a bucket? I can’t hear you.”_

Misaki sighed, resting his hand on his lap and taking a second to compose himself. “I told you I’m on the bus.”

The sudden silence that followed took him by surprise. He raised an eyebrow in uncertainty, waiting for some vague hint of Saruhiko’s voice or breathing.

“Saru—”

_“So, you’re desperate to hear me but I can’t hear you.”_

Another little rush of heat flooded into his cheeks. “A-and you — you were supposed to be asleep!” Misaki sputtered. His eyebrow gave a little twitch, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness at the fresh memories from the night before. Ever since Saruhiko boarded that plane, Misaki had been eager to wait for the chance they could talk, exchange a few written words and have at least some minutes a day for themselves, despite the time difference. It made him feel closer to Saruhiko, in a way. Hearing his voice made him feel just as close, but texting was more convenient at work, if he wanted to talk to him sneakily between breaks and orders. Last night, though... the fact that Saruhiko was apparently not as asleep as he appeared to be and had been reading every little thing Misaki was live rambling about like he was the one who needed sleep the most was... not that aggravating, but just a bit embarrassing, to say the least.

_“Does it matter?”_

“I kept textin’ you like an idiot,” Misaki mumbled with a pout.

Saruhiko went silent. There was another pause. A long pause.

Seriously, it was weird. Saruhiko only did that when he was about to hang up or when he was mulling over something. And Misaki hadn’t said anything worth a speechless reaction, at least not that he was aware of.

He blinked, a bit startled, when Saruhiko’s voice spoke up, cutting through his thoughts in a low murmur. _“I said it helped, didn’t I?”_

_How exactly did that help, really..._

“Yeah, and I can’t imagine how,” Misaki admitted, giving a little shrug, even if Saruhiko couldn’t tell.

_“It doesn’t matter.”_

“‘kay.” Misaki glanced out the window as the bus passed through the intersection leading him to his workplace. “Did you eat anything yet?” he asked, absentmindedly.

_“Just had lunch.”_

“What was it?”

_“Chicken.”_

“Good.”

_“I think.”_

“Huh?!” An amused, tiny sound echoed through his headphones and Misaki felt the corner of his lips twitch up fondly. “Check what you eat, dumbass.”

_“Yeee~s.”_

“And don’t catch a cold.”

_“Are you a doctor?”_

“I’m your boyfriend!”

_Seriously!_

There was a distinct, amused ‘ _hmph_ ’, and as soon as it died down, something about the silence that followed felt... off, as if the quietness on Saruhiko’s end was intensified by something else, but nearby. When Misaki dragged his eyes away from the window, a few passengers were looking up from their phones and staring at him warily, as though ‘dumbass’ and ‘boyfriend’ couldn’t possibly exist in the same conversation.

And they kind of had a point.

“Ugh.”

_“What?”_

“People are staring,” Misaki murmured as he sunk further into his seat, hoping that mere action could somehow make him smaller. From his line of sight, he recognized the unique awning of the big building close to the pub he was heading to. “‘m almost there.”

There was another brief instant of silence.

At least those annoying, snooping eyes previously all over him were back to their own business.

_“Would you rather talk when we’re alone?”_ Saruhiko asked.

“Huh?”

_“You said so, last night.”_

“Oh.” Misaki stilled for a moment, recalling his own words. Certainly, he doubted Saruhiko wanted to call him while someone else stood in the same ten-meter radius as him, not to mention if they weren’t strangers but the same guys he worked with every single day, and even worse if they were to sleep in the same room — that was why he asked. “Well, yeah, I guess.” He lifted a hand to scratch his check, his voice livening up near the end. “I mean... you too, right?”

_“Mm. We can talk later,”_ Saruhiko said, sparking Misaki’s interest.

“Really?” Misaki asked, a bit dumbfounded, the unspoken promise curving his lips into a satisfied smile. “I mean — yeah!”

Misaki could understand why the first three nights Saruhiko had been too exhausted, almost mentally drained, to keep a decent conversation. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t call their little exchanges unmeaningful. What was more, the week was rushing past faster than he’d anticipated and it wasn’t a bad thing, considering it was Thursday already and Saruhiko would be home by Saturday night.

To be honest, the hours Misaki spent at work were no different from his usual routine with Saruhiko in it. Normally, they didn’t text each other all that much — the time they spent together at the end of the day made up for what they couldn’t say to each other from morning until night — but the fact that Saruhiko was so far away from home fed that capricious feeling inside of Misaki, demanding to know everything, or at least a bit more.

It was a little sad, now that he thought about it, a little selfish, maybe, or a little hypocritical, but something told him it was kind of expected and normal, too...

Well, Saruhiko didn’t seem to mind, anyway.

In any case, it was fine if Misaki couldn’t hear him; just knowing they could still keep some kind of contact was good enough.

It was just for two more days...

“So... when you get back?” Misaki asked.

_“What?”_

“Yeah. To your room? Wherever it is you’re stayin’.”

_“Ah.”_ A pause. _“Yeah.”_

_Um..._

That brief moment of hesitation was unexpected and stirred up a feeling of nervousness in Misaki’s confidence. “If that’s okay with you!” he added hastily.

_“Why wouldn’t it be?”_

Maybe he was just imagining things. “I dunno,” he murmured, suddenly unsure of how to respond, “‘cause you can wake up your neighbors... your roommate? I dunno...”

_“My... neighbors.”_

“Y-yeah.”

_“Wake them up... from what?”_ Saruhiko asked, and Misaki could strangely hear a hint of a smile in that question.

There was none in his own face anymore, though. Screw trying to be subtle. “From anything! Because they can _listen_! I know how fussy you are when you’re on the phone with people around.”

_“So, me talking to you on the phone can wake them up.”_ It wasn’t a question, but a dumb statement laced with an air of superiority that made clear that Saruhiko was making fun of him, wasn’t he?

“Yeah,” Misaki muttered, voice lowering to a hiss.

_“So, you expect me to... yell?”_

“What?”

_“That’s what you’re saying.”_

“That’s... I’m... not?”

Saruhiko let out a sigh. _“You know some people are actually able to control the intensity of their voices, unlike you, who barks like a dog all the time — right, Misaki?”_

“H-hey!”

_“Unless you make me... like, scream or yell at you, or something — literally — that’s not happening,”_ Saruhiko went on, ignoring Misaki’s protests. _“Waking up anyone, I mean.”_

Okay. Saruhiko made his point, but Misaki didn’t know whether to feel more composed or annoyed at the way he phrased it.

_“Unless that’s what you want.”_

“Uh — what?”

_“Do you have some... repressed quirk I should know about, Misaki?”_ Saruhiko drawled, and Misaki couldn’t help but think that the teasing tone punctuating his words indicated there was something more, _there_.

_What?_

“Huh?!” Misaki shrieked, and the same prying eyes from before turned to look at him once again.

_“Are you that worried about other people listening to us?”_

“I’m not — you are!”

_“I never said such a thing.”_

“Well, it’s so damn _obvious_!”

_“Whatever.”_

“Yeah, whatever.”

_“I’d like to see you try, though.”_

“Huh? What’s that mean?”

Saruhiko let out a small huff that sounded like a laugh. _“I’ll leave that up to you.”_

“Okay, mister mysterious,” Misaki drawled mockingly. “So, when are you calling?” he asked, determined to get a solid answer before reaching the end of his ride. He couldn’t wait to get off that nosy bus, and his prayers were answered when he saw his stop, sheltered and waving at him and calling him like a fourth little home — his third being the house with a metal plate engraved with his last name, his second surrounded by red oak, the smell of whiskey and an English legacy, and his first in another continent and being an idiot, _his_ _idiot_ , like always...

But also awfully quiet.

Seriously, what was with all the sudden indecision today?

Eventually, Misaki pressed the ‘stop’ button on the handrail and stilled in his seat, waiting...

Saruhiko’s voice came first.

_“Tonight.”_

His stop came second, and never was he so relieved to get off a bus.

“Right. Okay. I gotta go, now.”

_“Misaki.”_

“Yeah?”

_“Nothing.”_

“Uh... you okay?”

_“Yeah... good luck,”_ Saruhiko said, and after a few seconds, _“with the inspection.”_

Misaki’s lips curved up a bit. “Thanks.”

_“I’ll talk to you later.”_

“Yeah. Later, Saruhiko!”

The call was disconnected and Misaki didn’t bother suppressing the grin that spread wide on his lips as he strode straight for the pub’s back door.

Only two more days.

_Two more days and Saruhiko will be home again._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

**[02/28 - 20:58] Saruhiko:  
** so are they coming back?

 

Other than the small water leak from the staff bathroom and some paint that had begun to crack on the ceiling, the inspection guys didn’t find anything else that needed to be urgently corrected. Their final verdict had been a favorable one, and they had even commented positively on the staff’s good presence, including Misaki’s.

Everything was honestly going too good.

Which is why Misaki felt a little disappointed when Saruhiko didn’t even try to remind him of the so promised call he was waiting for.

From the moment he’d gotten back home to when his impatience began eating him up inside, they had been texting each other for about twenty minutes about their deeds of the day, and it was all very interesting and that — _ha, ha —_ but Saruhiko hadn’t brought up the topic that Misaki _really_ was interested to hear at all.

Misaki hadn’t asked, either. It was as if their conversation from that morning hadn’t even happened.

_It’s okay if I can’t hear him. Just having some kind of contact is fine._

_Maybe he just forgot to call._

Anyway, it was okay to ask.

_It’s okay, right?_

Maybe it wasn’t?

It felt unfair that Saruhiko seemed to be the only one visibly sacrificing his time to keep the _connection_ , no matter how much that made Misaki’s chest flutter warmly, although Misaki was sure he couldn’t take it the way Saruhiko was able to. He couldn’t possibly endure the rest of the day were he to run on less than three hours of sleep. Whether he succumbed while his fingers hovered over the keyboard or while the zombified version of himself dropped his tray all over his customers — an outcome he definitely didn’t fancy and terrified him more than Saruhiko forever teasing him for having healthier sleeping habits and falling asleep on him — it made no difference.

But if Saruhiko asked, he could maybe try...

But Saruhiko didn’t. Instead, he would stay up to talk to him, at least for a brief moment.

_He’s trying... right?_

And no, it definitely wasn’t because of his stupid sleeping patterns. That didn’t have anything to do with anything and Misaki had the right to bask in the fact that Saruhiko _wanted_ to stay up with him as much as Misaki did, and not because the way Saruhiko’s brain worked was a bit of a mess.

Well, if Saruhiko didn’t feel like talking, using his voice, it was fine.

_Right..._

**[02/28 - 21:07] Saruhiko:  
** Misaki

 

In the end, Misaki never asked, staring dreamily at the chat window instead until he registered Saruhiko’s last message, realizing he still had to send his response.

**[02/28 - 21:08] Yatagarasue me!:  
** yup here!

**[02/28 - 21:08] Yatagarasue me!:  
** yeah in 4 weeks to check the leak

**[02/28 - 21:08] Yatagarasue me!:  
** no big deal

**[02/28 - 21:09] Saruhiko:  
** ah

 

Misaki felt himself tense up a little, frustrated.

Silence.

He’d started tapping his fingers on the mattress impatiently, trying his best to ignore the irritation growing inside him, both testing whatever words he could think of in his head before he had to type them out and waiting for Saruhiko to speak.

The incertitude was holding him back, though, and a hundred assumptions were running through his mind.

_What’s taking him so long?_

 

**[02/28 - 21:12] Saruhiko:  
** Misaki

**[02/28 - 21:12] Yatagarasue me!:  
** yeah?

**[02/28 - 21:13] Saruhiko:  
** what are you doing?

_Wait, what?_

_I should be asking you that._

**[02/28 - 21:13] Yatagarasue me!:  
** um nothing?

**[02/28 - 21:13] Yatagarasue me!:  
** just chatting with u

**[02/28 - 21:13] Yatagarasue me!:  
** why?

 

A few seconds later, the three dots next to Saruhiko’s screen name were moving, indicating he’d started typing, but then they stayed still, picking up shortly after only to stop abruptly once again.

Misaki raised an eyebrow, finding that little display of vacillation weird.

Another tedious minute passed before the telltale dots were blinking once more.

 

**[02/28 - 21:15] Saruhiko:  
** it’s nothing

 

That was... even more unsettling, somehow. Misaki started to feel a little tinge of doubt himself.

If there was something wrong, Saruhiko would tell him, right?

Could he be busy with something?

At four a.m.?

 

**[02/28 - 21:16] Yatagarasue me!:  
** um..... is there smth u wanna talk about

**[02/28 - 21:16] Yatagarasue me!:  
**?

**[02/28 - 21:16] Saruhiko:  
** no forget I asked

 

_Huh?_

It hadn’t been that bad of a question. What was there to forget?

 

**[02/28 - 21:17] Yatagarasue me!:  
** is everything okay?

**[02/28 - 21:17] Saruhiko:  
** ym

**[02/28 - 21:17] Saruhiko:  
** yes

**[02/28 - 21:17] Yatagarasue me!:  
** okay..

 

_If you say so..._

He should probably ask now, about that call.

Yeah. He was going to tell him.

Or should he just hit the ‘call’ button himself?

_Ah, screw it — I’ll do it!_

And then...

**[02/28 - 21:17] Saruhiko:  
** lhjklky3k6

**[02/28 - 21:18] Yatagarasue me!:  
**??

**[02/28 - 21:18] Saruhiko:  
** nothing

**[02/28 - 21:18] Yatagarasue me!:  
** um u okay? u sound kind of distracted idk

**[02/28 - 21:18] Yatagarasue me!:  
** and slow..

**[02/28 - 21:18] Yatagarasue me!:  
** and tf is wrong with ur keybard

**[02/28 - 21:18] Yatagarasue me!:  
** keyboard*

**[02/28 - 21:19] Saruhiko:  
** itd

**[02/28 - 21:19] Saruhiko:  
** its the sever

**[02/28 - 21:19] Saruhiko:  
** the connection

**[02/28 - 21:19] Yatagarasue me!:  
** whats that got to do with??

**[02/28 - 21:20] Saruhiko:  
** cant handle peak hours. too many ppl at once

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** what

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** saru that happened in the 80s

**[02/28 - 21:20] Saruhiko:  
** 90s

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** whatever?????

**[02/28 - 21:20] Saruhiko:  
** taking a shower

 

“Haaah?!”

Another four a.m. shower — what the fuck? Seriously, the rest of the guests must hate him.

Not as much as Misaki was hating his timing, though.

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** okay??? now??

**[02/28 - 21:20] Saruhiko:  
** i’ll talk to you tomroow

_Will you really...?_

Misaki frowned back at Saruhiko’s message.

Was it selfish of him to want to ignore it? He couldn’t help but feel disillusioned, gotten all pumped up for nothing.

Well, if Saruhiko was making typos, he was probably really, _really_ tired. Still...

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** tomorrow*

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** heh

No answer.

**[02/28 - 21:20] Yatagarasue me!:  
** okay so

**[02/28 - 21:21] Yatagarasue me!:  
** night saruhiko

**[02/28 - 21:25] Saruhiko:  
** night

 

And just like that, Saruhiko was gone.

Misaki leaned against the pillows at his back, heaving out a deep sigh as he dragged a finger toward the ‘close’ button, and let his body sink down in the bed, suddenly too tired and feeling his muscles go lax.

“I’m hungry...”

As if reacting to his thoughts, his stomach gave a tremulous grumble, and he forced himself to slide off the bed sluggishly to reach for his backpack, pulling out the takeout dinner he’d taken from the bar.

_Chicken, huh._

Only two more days...

_I guess._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

   

> _Yatagarasue me! has changed his screen name to Yata!._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Misaki woke up before his alarm could do it for him, but still let his eyes drift shut for five more minutes. Shuffling out of bed that morning took a great deal of effort, the heavy fog of speculations in his mind weighing him down and chaining his limbs to the mattress. He didn’t skip on breakfast, this time; didn’t have to rush down the stairs to catch the bus, either. He found he wouldn’t have the energy if he had to, anyway.

Well, he didn’t actually lack energy but he’d rather keep it, so it was better if an accident like yesterday didn’t repeat itself...

 

**[02/29 - 07:34] Yata!:  
** morning

 

Today was Saruhiko’s last day abroad before flying back to Tokyo, and that thought alone should have been enough to cheer him up and push him to face the rest of the day with anticipation and optimism, yet...

He glanced down at his watch for the tenth time. No new messages nor missed calls.

But, today, he was definitely going to call Saruhiko before he boarded his plane.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

The call would have to wait.

Misaki hadn’t forgotten about the big ass reservation at his workplace, _at all_ , and before he could even think of complaining about his luck he’d been sent to arrange the tables. The morning started like normal, but the cooks had a lot to work on and the afternoon that followed soon after was quite hectic.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

**[02/29 - 14:17] Yata!:  
** hey saru

**[02/29 - 14:17] Yata!:  
** kinda busy rn so i cant talk much

**[02/29 - 14:17] Yata!:  
** ooh hey!! we forgot to talk like you didn’t call last nite!!

**[02/29 - 14:17] Yata!:  
** i just remembered haha but is it ok if i call u later??

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

The huge, interracial family that had reserved the biggest spot of the bar for most of the evening was composed of uncles and cousins and brothers and sisters-in-law of all heights and styles and haircuts — Misaki might have liked that simple red faux hawk quite a bit — who never stopped ordering one excessive dish after another and who had the whole staff gaping at them, at times, when they could afford to catch their breath and attend to the other diners.

Half of them — no, _more_ , definitely more — were foreigners, and near the end of their dinner, three big, beefy guys approached Misaki and his colleagues with enthusiastic ‘ _Very good, very good!_ ’s and more than a variant of ‘ _Oh-wish-ee! So oh-wish-ee!_ ’ [1] — they tried — as they gave them thumbs up and peace signs alternately, along with a roll of bills. Misaki and the rest glanced at the big table, seeking assistance from the few Japanese people that were with them, who in turn bowed their heads in apology and embarrassment [2].

At the end of the day, they were all gathered in the staff room, staring at one another stupidly and worn out, then at the bills on the table until the manager walked out of the room with a heavy sigh and came back with several cans of chūhai [3].

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Misaki took the grape flavored one. When he got back home, it still retained a kind coolness that he’d come to associate Saruhiko with, and he glowered at it as if it had personally offended him before storing it in the fridge.

Nothing in his nightly ritual changed that much after that, except that he skipped on dinner — having survived the frenetic evening on snacks, he didn’t need or want a full stomach right now — and pulled his headphones on as soon as he settled on the bed to read for the twentieth time the last message he’d gotten and that he’d already memorized by the tenth.

 

**[02/29 - 16:28] Saruhiko:  
** I didn’t forget.

 

Whether that was supposed to mean ‘yes’ or ‘no’, he was not turning back.

 

**[02/29 - 21:15] Yata!:  
** im back!

**[02/29 - 21:15] Yata!:  
** errr..... im calling now kay?

 

Not caring to wait for a response, his fingers hovered over the ‘call’ button beside Saruhiko’s screen name for a few seconds, and then, he called.

  

> _You are calling Saruhiko._

 

The awful, monotone dial tone rang in his ears — one, two, three times.

Four, five, six.

He tapped the red ‘cancel’ button.

  

> _Call canceled._
> 
> _Call failed at 21:17._

 

“Just... five minutes,” Misaki murmured to himself.

He must have been taking a shower, or he could also be sleeping... he _had_ to board a plane back home in just a few hours, after all. Still, he would have sent something — a good night text, like always, right?

Yeah, he _could_ be sleeping... but Misaki’s gut told him otherwise, and five minutes later, he was calling again.

  

> _You are calling Saruhiko._

 

Nothing.

   

> _Call canceled._
> 
> _Call failed at 21:23._

 

“Ugh...”

A few longer minutes passed, which Misaki spent tossing and turning impatiently, fiddling with random options in the settings of some of his widgets.

“This is it,” he grumbled grudgingly, “this is the last time — huh?”

The three dots that began blinking beside Saruhiko’s screen name took the breathe out of him, his heart giving a sudden little leap, and before he could stop himself, his fingers were already moving by reflex and sending another call request.

  

> _You are calling Saruhiko._

 

And then, Saruhiko stopped typing.

“What the hell!” he bawled, eyes widening in indignation as he sat up in a quick jerk that would have disoriented him had he not been riled up enough.  

 

> _Call canceled._
> 
> _Call failed at 21:35._

 

**[02/29 - 21:35] Yata!:  
** oi saru fuckin answer if ur there!!

 

He tapped the ‘call’ button again.

The line rang six times before Saruhiko picked up.

   

> _Saruhiko has accepted your call._

“Fuckin’ thank you!”

  

> _Connecting..._
> 
> _Call successful!_

 

“ _Finally_ — hey, Saruhiko!” Misaki exclaimed, too enthusiastically and a bit aggressively. Before he could register the accidental stridency of his greeting, the suspicious pause that settled between his voice and the moment Saruhiko acknowledged him with a vague ‘ _hm_ ’ had set him on edge. “Saru?”

_“… M’saki,”_ was the response at that, his name coming out short and muffled, as if Saruhiko was deliberately blocking his mouth with something, or just literally talking from a barrel. There was a slight strain in his voice, too, and Misaki found himself frowning, his ears now trying to pick up more of Saruhiko’s surroundings with more accuracy.

“You okay?” Misaki asked. No answer. “You’re not sick, are you?” he tried again, as bossy as he could manage, ignoring the slight concern starting to pile within him.

Perhaps there was a reason why he didn’t want to talk...

_“No,”_ Saruhiko uttered slowly, seemingly getting rid of the interference in the gap between the microphone of his PDA and his voice, because Misaki was able to catch its clear intensity without struggle. _“All’s... good.”_

The long, dead silence that followed somehow betrayed that statement, however, and for a few seconds, Misaki couldn’t bring himself to ask anything else, finding himself at a loss of words, waiting for the sudden awkwardness of the conversation to dissipate, or something. He could probably hurry things up a bit, starting by asking how his day had been — _anything_.

“H-hey, Saruhiko—”

_“Hah...”_ There was a fleeting, pained muffled noise on the other side, and Misaki froze with a frown, feeling confused and anxious.

“S-Saru?”

_“Hm...”_ Saruhiko’s breathing was louder now — a new barricade of soft pants got in the way and what little Misaki could make out of Saruhiko’s voice made his heart stutter. Misaki felt his neck go clammy, his mind beginning to recognize faintly the pattern of those distinct... sounds? Saruhiko then exhaled a loud, choked sigh, and for a moment, Misaki could only stay silent, eyes wide open and perplexed, trying to fully grasp the facts in front of him and the meaning behind those vibrations blasting in his ears.

Stupefied, _understanding_...

It sounded like he was...

_“Mm...”_

Moaning?

That was a moan. Misaki was sure of it. He’d heard it before. Several times, actually. But there was no way Saruhiko was touching himself and—

_“M-Misaki...”_

_Holy fuck._

Maybe he really was — and that vague realization of sorts seeping through him made him feel hot, the wave of sounds echoing in his headphones deviating his reasoning from the most logical side of his brain to the point he was left rummaging through the most _unconceivable_ assumptions stored somewhere deep in his mind, next to the most intimate memories and sensations that Misaki reserved solely for when it was just the two of them, together, relishing in the pleasant prickle on their skin as their bodies heated up in arousal.

“S-Saruhiko...” Misaki tried cautiously, untrusting his own voice. The awakening emotions behind that remembrance were currently attracting him like a decoy, and before he was able to actually confirm the truth of his presumed discovery, his mind was already summoning vivid images before his eyes.

Saruhiko moaning, sprawled out on the bed of some fancy hotel room with Misaki’s name falling from his lips.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Misaki asked.

_“It’s your fault, Misaki,”_ Saruhiko breathed out, the trembling note of his voice sending a shiver down Misaki’s back. After a long intake of breath, he drawled heavily, _“It’s so annoying.”_

Saruhiko clicked his tongue softly afterwards, but it was hard to believe he actually meant it; it sounded like it was just by mere habit and out of frustration.

Misaki took in a long sigh, readying himself to just ask.

“Um... a-are you t-touching... y-your…” He tensed up and gave a pause, swallowing hard, half-expecting Saruhiko to make some sense out of his words, and half-hoping him not to, and forget he asked anything — lest he, _no, wasn’t touching anything_ , and didn’t let Misaki live that down for the rest of his days.

It could have meant many things, but Misaki could not help but think of _that_ , and after a few more soundless seconds during which he felt is consciousness about to leave his body, Saruhiko responded, _“No.”_

Misaki’s shoulders deflated. He felt embarrassed and dumb all of a sudden, for assuming that his boyfriend would think of doing such a thing. Saruhiko? Bitter and composed — and stupidly sexy, ironically — Saruhiko? Jerking off while on the phone? Right. That would be new. His cheeks burned up in shame and... something else. The thought of his boyfriend getting off to him, miles away from home, had been... hot, after all, and a part of him couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, too. And... he had to think of a way to relieve the sudden warmth in his crotch before he actually let it grow into something more serious.

“O-oh,” he said, if only to cut the mess of thoughts in his head with something.

_“You.”_

“Huh?”

_“You like it... when I touch_ you _.”_

_Well, fuck._

It was pathetic, how that alone was enough to relight the little fire that had begun to stir in Misaki’s belly, the urge to mix those illusory images in his head with the voice on the other side of the line slowly becoming a tempting necessity.

_“Or when I kiss you,”_ Saruhiko went on and Misaki’s body tensed, an involuntary groan escaping his throat. He didn’t notice how loud he’d been until Saruhiko made room for his usual, teasing tone, and asked, _“Heh. What are you doing, Mi~sa~ki~?”_

“I-I should be asking you that!” Misaki countered, the threat in his voice cracking.

Saruhiko laughed. _“’m thinking — about Misaki."_

Misaki felt his heart speeding up and cast his eyes down, stopping at the bulge in his crotch, a shaky hand running tentatively over the waistband of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, caught between indecision and disbelief at the notion of actually getting off while he was on the phone with Saruhiko, just from hearing his voice and with a bit of visual help. If only he could really see him —

How did Saruhiko look, right now, while thinking about him?

_‘Or when I kiss you.’_

He imagined Saruhiko’s rosy lips, flat and thin but plump and red when stimulated and bruised enough, when Misaki nipped at them, when Saruhiko kissed him before going down—

_“For so long,”_ Saruhiko’s voice cut through his little fantasy, sharp and hot.

“Wh-wha—” Misaki blinked, taken aback, uncertain of what he just heard. “Wh-what do you mean,” he stuttered out, barely managing to make it a question. “S-Saruhiko?”

He thought he heard Saruhiko shift, the sound leaving his lips bearing the semblance of a whimper mixed with a gasp, reverberating sweetly through Misaki’s ears. _“E-every, hah... every night.”_ It had been just a few words, but his voice was severely amplified by the headphones blocking out everything outside of the little world that was just Misaki and the influx of vibrations and voice that were Saruhiko’s.

“Wh-what?” Misaki breathed out, palming himself through his sweatpants. For all he knew, Saruhiko could be just spewing things to cause a reaction. It seemed improbable, though. Misaki missed him, terribly, but the thought of... thinking of him like _that_ and cope with his absence jerking off hadn’t crossed his mind.

And Saruhiko beat him to it?

_Fuck._

He suddenly needed this, wanted to _try_ and keep feeding the stimulating images reeling in his brain, and didn’t stop his hand from sneaking into his pants, his breath hitching softly when his tremulous digits found a wet spot already forming on his boxer briefs. Brushing two fingers underneath the curve of the tip, he massaged the outline of the glans leisurely.

“Wh-why, when—” Misaki asked, tripping over his words, immediately telling himself that, no, that didn’t even matter. It wasn’t what he wanted to ask, really. Considering how Saruhiko was, it must have taken him some courage to admit what he’d just said. Misaki wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask, at this point, but he did want to _know_ , everything.

He didn’t get to finish reorder his thoughts before Saruhiko was speaking again. _“Hm... since Wednesday?”_

“Wednes — _fuck_ , _Saruhiko_.” Since fucking Wednesday. Suddenly, everything in those awkward, poor excuses of a conversation made perfect sense. The pauses, the unsettling incertitude. Since two nights ago. And Misaki — “Fuck,” — he’d been _there_ , chatting with Saruhiko as if it were nothing, while Saruhiko was probably going a bit faster every time Misaki tapped the ‘enter’ button.

_Fuck. Stop._

How did Saruhiko look, back then?

Those lips from his fantasy were back again, this time melting against Misaki’s before moving to suck at his neck and then across the expanse of his bare chest, brushing over his skin and leaving a trail of hungry want in their wake. Maybe Saruhiko would kiss his hip while he was at it, maybe he’d go lower, stopping at his thighs to look up at him, eyes soft but dark and demanding with need—

_Saruhiko’s face._

That stupid, gorgeous face that Misaki hadn’t seen for five days was suddenly crashing full-force into his mind, pushing all traces of coherency away and making itself comfortable before his eyes, so neat, so clear.

And right between his legs, too.

“F-fuck.”

_“Heh.”_

“Wh-what?” Misaki growled weakly, vaguely registering the hint of amusement in Saruhiko’s tone and unable to bring himself to be mad at it, and pushed his underwear down, just enough to pull his dick out, slick and half-hard from the actions of the Saruhiko in his mind, summoned right from his most carnal memories, and the promising, sultry voice breathing into his ears. A drop of pre-cum dripped from the tip, and he shuddered a sigh as he swept his thumb over the slit and enclosed the head of his dick in his hand, gathering the moisture in his palm to spread it along the rest of his length, giving it slow, long strokes.

_“I should be asking that,”_ Saruhiko exhaled mockingly. _“Right? What is it, Misaki?”_ he crooned. Misaki shuddered, a soft moan rattling in his throat as he pumped his hand a bit quicker, his body sliding down the bed until the back of his head sank into his pillow. _“Finally made up your mind, virgin~?”_

“Sh-shut up.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this, but never like this, with Saruhiko on the phone, listening to him and... getting off to him, too. A rush of self-consciousness was already threatening to flatten his confidence, but he pushed that feeling aside. He could hear Saruhiko, breathing through his nose and exhaling heavily trough his mouth every time he said something.

_He’s actually doing this, too, thinking of us._

And let that fact sink in instead, feed the motivation to keep him going.

Tossing his head to the side, faintly aware of the headphones on his head and careful to keep them in place, with his knees bent and feet pressing firmly against the mattress, Misaki reached his free hand down, brushing his fingers tentatively along the soft flesh of his balls.

“Y-you’re alone, now… right?”

_“Hm,”_ Saruhiko paused, seemingly mulling over his answer. _“That depends.”_

Misaki frowned. “H-huh?”

_“You want someone to see?”_

“Sh-shut up! I mean, your — your teammates, your boss... h-he’s not there, right? Where are they?”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. _“Are you seriously thinking about my teammates and the Captain, now?”_ he snapped sharply, a clear edge of irritation in his shaky voice.

“Fuck, _no_!” Misaki squeaked in a high-pitched protest, horrified. The suggestion alone was enough to disgust him to the core, but he didn’t let it become more than a fleeting comment.

_Still_... the thrill of someone else possibly _knowing_ Saruhiko was squirming in pleasure because of him was actually more intriguing than he’d considered, and before he could dwell upon how twisted or not that was, the thought had already made its way into his mind and sent an urgent jolt straight to his dick, causing it to grow harder in his hand.

Misaki groaned into his pillow, something wild and possessive surging through him as he closed his fist firmly around his cock and stroked himself more fervently.

_“Good,”_ Saruhiko’s approval resounded somewhere in the fevered haze of his mind. Was it a praise? A command? Misaki couldn’t tell anymore, but the mix of the two had his erection pulsing in his fingers. _“What do you want, Misaki?”_

_I want — I want..._

When he squeezed his eyes shut, Saruhiko’s face was back. Those hooded eyes full of want and desire stared up at him for a second before that teasing mouth was opening and closing around the head of his dick, wet, hot, and Misaki was bringing a hand to Saruhiko’s cheek, pushing the stray strands of hair off—

_Your face._

_“My face, huh,”_ Saruhiko cooed, and Misaki felt ready to throw himself from the highest tree of their neighborhood, only then realizing he hadn’t been talking inside his head, his natural reaction urging him to respond with the first and most prominent thing popping up in his mind, which was Saruhiko, between his legs... giving him a blowjob. _“That’s — hmm... fine with me... what else?”_

Saruhiko’s reaction was sort of reassuring, but Misaki still fell silent. “Ha-ah?”

_“Tell me.”_

More? “A-ah... y-you... touching... I-I don’t know—” Misaki paused and swallowed hard. “Hah... t-touch me...”

Was that enough? He hoped so, because it was so fucking embarrassing, and he was close, and when Saruhiko let out a soft hum, allowing himself to chuckle, before he said, _“I am,”_ like it was the most obvious thing — it somehow made the blurry fantasy spinning in his head all the more real. Misaki shuddered and let out a soft whimper as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt and pushed it up. The cool air hitting the bare skin there made his belly tense momentarily, and another small tremor ran through him when he skimmed his free hand up to his stomach and chest in a vague attempt to mimic what he remembered of Saruhiko’s caresses, swallowing back the sudden shyness he felt when it wasn’t Saruhiko but himself doing it.

It still felt nice, though, and sufficient, for the time being. “S-Saruhiko...”

_More, just a little more..._

_“Mm... want you, Misaki.”_

He could still see Saruhiko’s face, bobbing up and down to the frenzied rhythm of his hand, and Misaki nearly choked, inhaling a shaky breath and feeling the imminent pressure building up in his groin, that sweet, slick friction on his cock overwhelming his every thought. His heart pounded rapidly as he pressed his face into the gap between his pillow and Saruhiko’s.

That was when the smell struck him.

His eyes felt thick and heavy, and he had to make an effort to force them open, his muscles slowly giving in to his command with reluctance and a tingle of anticipation. The hand wandering lazily over his chest reached up slowly to feel the soft fabric of Saruhiko’s pillow, and his fingers twitched when they slipped beneath it and found the set of night clothes there.

His cock throbbed in his fist, and his muscles stilled, hesitating for a brief moment.

“Sa... ru...” he trailed off, retrieving Saruhiko’s shirt from under the pillow and keeping it close to him, his eyelids slowly drooping down with a content sigh as his other hand resumed pumping his erection. “Sa- _ah..._ ”

_“M-Misaki, close—”_ Saruhiko groaned, and in the solitude of the room, their room, without any external interference, Misaki could really hear everything — from the strain in his boyfriend’s throat, out of breath and desperate, to the broken notes of the rasp in that voice practically sobbing his name, torn by the thrill of raw pleasure and brazen confidence and mingling with the faint rustle of the stiff bed sheets of some pompous hotel room.

Misaki breathed into the shirt and grunted against the smell, drowning in the faint fragrance of washing powder and cheap lime shampoo and the unmistakable, personal scent of Saruhiko — the same that flooded his nose when he nuzzled Saruhiko’s neck and kissed his chest and hugged him at night.

“F-fuck, I’m- _a-ah_!” It was just him, Saruhiko’s pants vibrating in his eardrums, and his own cracked voice muffled by the shirt that he’d been pressing firmly to his face, turned damp and hot from his breath and all the times he whispered Saruhiko’s name. Misaki’s fingers tightened around it until his knuckles turned white, but all he felt instead was the fictitious softness of Saruhiko’s hair and the illusory suction of his mouth. “Ah, ‘m gonna — ah, fuck,” he exhaled and gritted his teeth, and then he was reaching his peak and coming, hard and intense, a smoldering heat spiking through his body as his toes curled in ecstasy.

_“Mi-Misa-ah...”_ In his foggy bliss, Misaki was able to pick up a languid moan tearing from Saruhiko’s throat, somewhat short-lived when it was over but satisfying all the same.

Drawing a sharp breath through his clenched teeth, Misaki gave his cock a few last tugs, squeezing the last drops of his release before his muscles went slack, his knees collapsing and the back of his thighs and legs falling back onto the bed. His body was still quivering in tiny ripples, muscles twitching from the ghostly aftershock of his orgasm, and for a moment he just let himself succumb to that feeling of completion and quietude, his chest rising and falling in stuttering hitches. When he reopened his eyes, his sleepy gaze dipped to the sticky mess in his fingers and over his belly — some of it reaching the edges of his shirt.

And then he regarded the navy blue shirt in his other hand with a mix of bewilderment and disbelief, completely unable to suppress the feverish heat flooding into his cheeks and the center of his chest.

He thought he was supposed to know his body, but then he just went and did what he did, and it felt _amazing_... breaking past a new boundary like that.

_“Misaki...?”_ Saruhiko’s voice sounded clearer, but still shaky and low.

“Y-yeah... yeah, ‘m here,” Misaki panted softly and licked his dry lips before letting them form a smile. “We... we did it, huh,” he said, voice thick and breathless but sated.

Saruhiko replied with a soft murmur, somewhere between a content hum and a sigh. They didn’t say anything for a brief time afterwards and implicitly allowed themselves a moment of silence to catch their breath.

Time. It was hard not to feel a little twinge of guilt as Misaki lifted his hand to glance at his watch — technically, Saruhiko was supposed to be rested enough to board his plane the following morning, and that was just in a few hours.

“Hey... what time’s your flight?”

_“Eight.”_

“What time is it?” Misaki asked, too spent to do the math himself.

_“Ten to five.”_

In three hours, then... and, as expected, Saruhiko’s sleep cycle was completely messed up.

“It’s... ten to ten here,” Misaki said. It hadn’t been that long since Saruhiko accepted his call, but time seemed to slow down, somehow, while they were... sure, _talking_. Misaki shivered slightly and felt his neck warm up a bit. “It... it felt longer,” he said sheepishly.

_“Mm, you came fast.”_

“W-w-we c-came at the same time!” Misaki sputtered back.

_“I started first,”_ Saruhiko said, like it wasn’t a big deal. It probably wasn’t, but Misaki ignored the little thrill that came with that confession along with some of his embarrassment to manage a half-smirk.

“Heh... who’s the one with the repressed urges, idiot.”

Saruhiko let out a soft yet challenging laugh. _“I didn’t repress them, though.”_

“R-right...” Misaki croaked. Fuck, of course he didn’t. No one expected the foreign, correct model officer locking himself in his hotel room and jerking off to his boyfriend’s text messages for _three_ nights — yet here they were, and if Saruhiko’s soothing voice and the fatigue pulling at his own muscles weren’t lulling Misaki to sleep, that little reminder would have easily evoked something very visual in his mind, again. “I feel sorry for the room service guys.”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, although there was a noticeable fondness in his tone. _“Why are you implying I made a mess? I’m not you, Misaki.”_

“Yeah, yeah.... and... what’re you gonna do, now?”

_“I’m taking a shower,”_ Saruhiko sighed.

A late shower, huh? Misaki snorted in a knowing manner, a grin spreading on his face. “This late?”

_“Is that a problem?”_

“Heh, no. I’m… y-yeah... me too… ‘m gonna shower, I mean. Try not to make too much noise. Don’t make them hate you more, idiot.”

_“Like I care. And I’m not you,”_ Saruhiko repeated, almost in a drawl.

“Yeah, got it,” Misaki brushed him off, before he suddenly remembered... “Oh, hey, Saruhiko.”

_“Mm?”_

“W-well...” Misaki glanced to the side, bracing himself. “That made you scream?”

There was a distinctive pause, followed by a soft snort, as if something had clicked into place inside Saruhiko’s head, then, _“No. Shut up.”_

Misaki chewed his lip through a grin. Warmth coiled low in his belly as he attempted to bit back a laugh. “So... I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

_Finally._

_“You don’t have to come get me,”_ Saruhiko said, not quite turning the offer down.

“I want to,” Misaki reaffirmed convincingly. Unlike the whole food-photography fiasco, this was something they had agreed on previously, and since Saruhiko and everyone else were to depart from their headquarters, Misaki wasn’t able to see him take off, but they would meet at the airport when he returned. Besides, he didn’t fancy the idea of a sleep-deprived Saruhiko walking back home alone. “So, don’t be late!” he added then, a little louder.

_“Let me guess — or you’ll kick me.”_

“I’ll kick the… plane.”

_“Don’t you say.”_

Misaki let out a sigh; he was definitely a bit delirious, drunk on the prospect of tomorrow filling him with expectancy and making his skin raise with small goose bumps.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Saruhiko was speaking again.

_“Don’t be late, Misaki.”_ The words came out differently, this time — soft and bit pleading, holding a slight edge of longing, and Misaki couldn’t find it in himself to tease him for it, his smile only growing bigger.

“Never,” Misaki said reassuringly. “Hit me up before you take off.”

_“Mhm.”_

“Okay. G’night, Saruhiko.”

_“Good night, Misaki.”_

The call was disconnected, but the resulting silence couldn’t replace the vestiges of Saruhiko’s voice still ringing in is ears. Misaki pulled his headphones off lazily but carefully and rested them on the pillow, just above his head. The sigh that left his lips afterwards was one of relief and contentment.

As he curved his body to sit up, he was immediately reminded of the viscous stickiness that had pooled in his stomach and was starting to dry on his skin and fingers, and reached across the bed to the night table for some tissue from one of the drawers. He’d managed to avoid making too much of a mess, but after wiping off his hand and some of his abdomen, he took off all of his clothes and threw them into the laundry basket before heading to the bathroom.

He also changed the sheets that night. He just had to.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

The tiny, green light slipping through his eyelids made him stir slightly.

A low moan rumbled out of his throat as he cracked his eyes open just enough to notice the notification led flashing in his watch, his left hand facing down and balled up into a loose fist against the pillow, right in front of his face. It certainly helped to sleep with his watch on the last week, in case of an emergency.

Without shaking too much of his somnolence away, Misaki raised his left arm over his face and slid his right hand out from under the pillow to drag his fingers across the surface sleepily, the sudden flash of light emitted from the holographic screen that popped up making him wince momentarily.

 

**[03/01 - 00:47] Saruhiko:**  
About to board now.

**[03/01 - 00:47] Saruhiko:**  
I’ll be there by 10 pm.

 

He meant to answer — he really did, in spite of the reluctance in his muscles, which in turn responded to the lethargy clouding his brain. Very slowly, his fingers moved over the keyboard, once, twice, and then he was giving up halfway.

It didn’t matter. Saruhiko wouldn’t read anything until he landed.

A petite smile formed on Misaki’s lips as his eyes fluttered closed again. It didn’t matter, he would text him — no, he would _see_ Saruhiko later, at night.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

The next morning, Misaki stared at the message he’d sent at a quarter past one a.m., then covered his mouth, stared at it some more, and ran his hand down his face, his cheeks warm beneath his palm.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

**[03/01 - 01:16] Yata!:**  
ilov eoyu so mcuh [4]

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] _oh-wish-ee_ = 'oishii' = Japanese for 'delicious'.  
>  [2] There's no tipping culture in Japan (with some exceptions), hence the 'confusion'.  
> [3] Chūhai is a canned low-alcohol drink.  
> [4] I love you so much


	2. Chapter 2

> _Yata! has changed his screen name to_ _☀_ _Yata_ _☀_ _._

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

There he went — he saw no harm in burying that ephemeral instant of embarrassment bragging about how cool his new nickname was, like nothing really happened, and how he’d managed to find the shortcut to the hidden emoticons, which he’d found a long time ago, actually, it was just that he never used them. Saruhiko would be so fucking proud.

Whatever. It wasn’t that bad. He could stand to be made fun of because of a few typos while half-asleep and the desperate affection behind his last message. Honestly, that wasn't as big of a deal as the fact that he’d jerked off while on the phone with his boyfriend and—

“Holy fuck — I had fuckin’ _phone sex_ with Saruhiko.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

After getting back from his morning shift and a quick shower — he needed the extra-cold distraction, and to be nice and clean and presentable for his boyfriend — Misaki made an exception to his rule of never ever ironing already worn clothes, because the wrinkles in Saruhiko’s shirt were suspiciously still shaped like his fingers.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

He spent most of his free evening at Homra, fidgety and more often than not bouncing his legs nervously and tapping his fingers on the counter — but mostly excited, boisterous as ever. There was only so much he could mask underneath his natural zeal, but he managed fairly well, and if his friends were glancing at him sideways when he laughed too hard when someone cracked a poor joke, he didn’t care. It wasn’t the joke he smiled at — and everyone must have been aware of that — but something else, something swelling inside of him that made him feel as though all of his emotions were suddenly intensified and waiting to snap the moment he saw Saruhiko again.

At some point, Anna approached him with soft footsteps and a small, red tinplate box in her petite hands.

“Misaki,” she said, a gentle smile adorning his small lips, and Misaki couldn’t help but crouch down on one knee — because once a knight, always a knight. “This is for Saruhiko. It’s chocolate.”

“Oh! Thanks, Anna! I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Misaki can have some, too.”

“Thanks!” Misaki exclaimed with a glow in his eyes, cradling the gift in his hands with extreme care, and blaming the wide grin that stretched his lips on all the love and support.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Misaki glanced down at his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time.

A quarter to seven — depending on the traffic, he would be there in an hour, perhaps a bit more. He wasn’t in a hurry but...

_‘Don’t be late, Misaki.’_

He would have lied if he said that little request didn’t make something in his chest flutter with excitement, prompting him to want to leave right then and there. He didn’t really cared how desperate he looked — making up his mind, he was mentally preparing himself to stand and grab his backpack when, next to him, Kamamoto’s voice chimed in.

“Yata-san.” And as though his friend had been looking at him the whole time, he asked, a bit warily, “Shouldn’t you be going?”

“Ah, yeah, I should probably...”

“Yata-chan,” Kusanagi called from behind the bar, a little smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “You’re meeting at the airport, right?”

Misaki looked up to meet his eyes. Yeah, they were, and that was enough to curve his lips up in anticipation. “Yeah.”

“Then you should be goin’,” Kusanagi said, raising an eyebrow. “Y’look like you really want to.”

“K-Kusanagi-san!” Misaki sputtered, his cheeks flooding with color. Had he been that obvious? “I-It’s not—!” he reacted by mere instinct and paused; no, it probably was, and there was no point in denying it. Breathing out a brief sigh, he hopped off his seat, flinging his backpack across his back when his name was brought up again, this time around the coffee table on the opposite side of the room, far away from the ears of the regular clientele.

“Oh, Yata-san, you’re leaving?” asked Shouhei.

“Good,” Chitose cut in before Misaki could respond, leaning back against the couch with his hands folded behind his head. “Don’t make your man wait.”

“A week’s already gone by, huh,” Dewa mused thoughtfully.

“That’s why I say — don’t make him wait.” Chitose sighed and lifted his eyebrows wryly. “That’s, like, the worst impression you can make.”

“That would be bad,” Bandou added, turning his head toward the table beside them, where Fujishima and Eric expressed, “Yeah,” and “The worst,” respectively.

“All of you...” Misaki’s eyebrows twitched, disliking the feeling of being scolded for some reason beyond him, honestly. “I don’t need you guys telling me!” he bawled. “And I was going!”

His protests went unheeded, however.

“Yeah, I wanna see _you_ sitting on a plane all stiff for a whole day,” said Bandou, to no one in particular.

“That’s tough,” added Fujishima. “Wasn’t it for fifteen hours, though?”

Bandou shrugged. “Same thing.”

“I wouldn’t want to be there.”

“He’s gonna be mad.”

“Anyone would be.”

By the time Misaki crossed the room toward the exit, he had no idea who was talking or what to make of their conversation anymore.

“Think he got any?”

“N-no way, Chitose! Don’t say that in front of him!” Bandou whisper-yelled in a panicky voice. Misaki raised an eyebrow, failing to comprehend the overreaction.

“Just sayin’ that’s another reason he could be mad.”

“Still...!”

Misaki’s hand stilled on the doorknob and turned to face them. Saruhiko was mad? “The hell are y’all talking about?” he asked, demandingly — but the moment they all turned their heads to look at him, he felt a cold prickling sensation running down his spine.

“Well,” Chitose began, “it’s been a week since... you know.”

“Yeah?” Misaki answered simply and frowned, because... yeah, it had been a week? “So?”

“How do I say this...” Chitose hesitated.

Misaki didn’t like it. “Just spit it out.”

Chitose glanced at Dewa, only to get a shrug in return. Then he turned back to Misaki. “You haven’t had any... _action_ since then.”

“Huh?”

“You know... _fun_.”

A couple of feet away from them, Kusanagi let out a loud, somewhat warning cough; his lips weren’t moving and his teeth were clenched into a forced, tight smile when he said, “ _Anna._ ”

“Ah, right,” Chitose murmured. He seemed to mull over his thoughts for a brief moment and then he slouched down and leant forward so that Misaki could hear him from the couch, placing a hand beside his mouth and dropping his voice to a whisper. “Intercourse.”

“What?”

Akagi, who stood nearer to him, rephrased, “He means sex,” with such a laid-back smile, that when it finally clicked in Misaki’s head he couldn’t tell what was worse — the statement itself or the fact that someone could pull off such a casual, happy-go-lucky expression while saying _that_.

For a moment, he merely stood there, nonplussed and flabbergasted, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chitose flopping back onto the couch, throwing his arms in the air and motioning to Akagi in a ‘there you have it’ fashion.

“Thank you,” Chitose exhaled.

For a moment, he felt hot, hot, _hot_.

That... that wasn’t entirely truth, though. He doubted that Saruhiko was mad or anything because of _that_ , considering what they did last night. If anything, it was quite the opposite.

Misaki swallowed hard, finding that all that gossiping should have affected him way worse than it did, and it wasn’t because he trusted his sudden capability of setting up an anti-stupidity barrier against his friends’ prying comments, but because the influx of memories reawakening and flooding before his eyes had stripped him of any possibility of reacting naturally, a rush of smoldering heat rising up to his face instead.

And now he couldn’t help remembering all that, _in public_.

It didn’t bother him that much anymore, what his friends thought about those... aspects of his life; he’d been with Saruhiko long enough for everyone to _assume_ things, and once he’d gotten past that initial embarrassment all he was left to deal with was the occasional stuttering and mockery — nothing he couldn’t fix with a kick or two to assert his authority.

“Hah, hah, very funny — you all,” he muttered, albeit lacking conviction, if the curious glances he got in response were anything to go by.

_Don’t take the bait — they’re trying to rile you up._

Chitose gave a shrug. “It’s true.”

Bandou tilted his head in thought. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem the type...”

“Don’t listen to him,” added Dewa, who shook his head and threw Chitose a disbelieving look.

Chitose merely smirked. “Please. Even someone like Fushimi would—”

_Fuck this._

“Speak for yourself!” Misaki cut him off, quick and loud, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Calm down,” Chitose waved his hand, brushing him off. “It’s no big deal.”

“That’s not the point! Why would he be mad — b-because of that?!”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“N-no! And for your information, last night I talked to him and we—”

He paused right then.

The apocryphal silence that accompanied his broken statement was just downright suffocating.

For a moment, Misaki panicked. “What?”

“What?” Bandou repeated, mouth agape as he moved his sunglasses down his nose to stare at Misaki directly.

“Wh-what?”

“No, _you_ what.” Chitose’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. “Don’t tell me, you—”

Nope.

Nope.

No way was he being part of this stupid conversation.

Misaki turned away sharply, fingers tightening in the doorknob. “‘kay bye!”

“Take care~,” he heard Kusanagi croon somewhere in the bar.

“W-wait, Yata-sa—!”

And just like that, he pushed past the door and stepped out into the nightly spring breeze before the booming voices that followed the shocked chorus of gasps could reach his reddened ears.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

By the time Misaki got off the metro and made it to the Narita Airport, it was a quarter past nine. The sudden warmth that spread over his face as he stepped into the lobby felt like an extension of his scarf. A puff of shivering, hot air escaped his mouth as he loosened the garment around his neck and let it dangle over his shoulders, and allowing himself a moment to accustom his body to the change of temperature, he took in his surroundings.

The terminal was big; every layer of the room was just so spacious, that it looked as though it was just begging to be filled with something, coincidentally matching Misaki’s desire to spill his energy all over the place — for someone whose heart yearned for liberty and open cages, however, being surrounded by such immensity felt suffocating and he couldn’t help the slight feeling of loneliness and powerlessness that came with it.

He’d never been there before, and he felt a little lost, overwhelmed by the colossal walls and columns and lights everywhere, but upon asking for indications to an elderly couple who was apparently waiting for the same flight as him, Misaki was able to find an advantageous little spot at the left side of the big room, opposite the entrance, where he could sit and have a clear of every passenger making their way out of the large corridor that connected the baggage area with the waiting hall of the lobby.

The place wasn’t completely empty; people were idly scattered all over it, minding their own business, and despite Misaki’s initial feelings, that quietude, albeit kind of unsettling at times, was beginning to be appreciated. None of that lasted long though, and fifteen minutes later there was a faint whisper of sounds resonating through the corridor that Saruhiko was supposed to walk through before emerging into the area Misaki was waiting in.

Misaki could hear them; the echo of footsteps and murmurs and suitcase wheels rolling smoothly across the polished floor, and even if the lady on the loudspeaker had clarified twice that it was not the flight he was waiting for, he still paused the match of Tetris on his watch and stretched his neck to look at the soon-to-come newcomers, as if the ridiculous possibility of Saruhiko being among them could somehow be completely plausible, or make his plane land sooner.

Ten minutes later, the occasional voices of people meeting each other and the rustling of coats as they exchanged greetings and displays of affection died down, gradually turning into a soft susurrus. Five minutes after that, the silence had settled in once more, conquering and phantasmal and cold, but the excitement flowing through Misaki’s veins was hotter, louder and thrumming in his ears — a little more and he could hear the sound of his heartbeat, a little more...

Because he knew where to look, the possibility of missing any crucial detail never crossed his mind as he glanced down at his watch — the hands signaling seventeen past ten were beginning to make the nerves in his stomach twist, and just when he thought he’d repressed his anxiety just beautifully a couple of minutes ago, Misaki found himself bouncing his legs in a clear display of his growing agitation, his arms crossed above his chest to somehow stop his heart from jumping out of his ribcage.

Soon, there was another vague wave of sounds, brushing the surface of his eardrums like a promising warning, and he jerked his head toward the corridor once more. He looked up to see the new, controlled flow of people coming out with their luggage. Instead of pausing his match, Misaki’s finger hovered over the ‘close’ button. This was it.

The couple that had taken a seat a few meters away from him was already on their feet, and a few seconds later they were opening their arms to a young woman that was carrying two big backpacks and was approaching them with a steady, almost hurried pace.

Misaki’s heart started to thump faster.

The older woman — her mother? — wrapped her arms around the newcomer tightly, while the man at their side looked like he was about to spill tears, and that sight alone was enough to fill Misaki with an immense felicity that he couldn’t contain and sprouted out of him in the form of a broad smile that spread over his lips like he had anything to do with those people.

And because he knew where to look, he turned his head back to the corridor, where he was certain he’d find what he’d been waiting for, for the last week. He’d been preparing himself for this.

His breath caught in his throat.

He wasn’t as prepared as he thought. But then again, he never was, when it came to Saruhiko.

_Saruhiko._

Finding Saruhiko was like looking up the night sky when it was at its darkest and spinning around one’s axis until the moon came in sight and it was impossible not to gape at it, because it was so mundane but also terribly perfect and amazing like that. Whereas seeing him standing out among constellations of people felt like catching the brightest star of them all.

Unlike a week ago, when Saruhiko left home, he wasn’t wearing Scepter 4’s uniform, but his long, black gabardine trench coat that made him look even taller, and the black jeans that Misaki had pushed into his luggage a night before. His hair was disheveled, more than usual — the black fur around the hood that settled over his shoulders probably had a better haircut than him. His right hand gripped the handle of his luggage, the other was in his pocket.

Misaki didn’t trust his legs to be able to hold his weight but he still managed to push himself off the stiffness of his seat, and when he did, he felt unusually light. There were many emotions threatening to overflow from his body and the most sappy ones — those he’d scrunched his nose at as a kid — were among the top.

A split second later, Munakata Reisi was standing at Saruhiko’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving his lips to utter something, a ‘ _Good job_ ’, maybe, or a ‘ _Good night_ ’ — hell if Misaki knew, but it was short and to the point. Saruhiko’s response was just as quick and concise; some variant of ‘ _Yeah_ ’, probably. And then the posse that Misaki recognized as Scepter 4’s main squad, along with the woman that was their sub-commander, followed their Captain’s retreating figure.

Saruhiko stood in his place — he must have expected to find Misaki near the area closest to the exit, because he looked briefly to his right side, then back to the front with certain wariness; the tilt of his head was extremely subtle as his eyes scanned his surroundings, as if they didn’t want to be caught spending too long looking for something. It was endearing.

And then, he glanced at his left briefly, and Misaki’s breath hitched as their eyes met.

Misaki stilled for a moment, a fleeting gasp of air refilling his lungs as he held onto that gaze. He thought he saw Saruhiko’s eyes widen a bit, but he wasn’t quite sure, because the next moment he was blinking repeatedly, shaking away the sudden fogginess in his sight. He then remembered he had a body and a heart thumping violently against his chest, and hands, and legs — which was absurd, considering all the pressure he’d put to various muscles of his body, last night —, but somehow he remembered he had all of that, and that his feet were holding him just so without giving away too much of the emotions dancing happily beneath his skin — so he used them.

“Saruhiko,” Misaki murmured, and strode his way across the lobby with wobbly legs.

Then Saruhiko turned fully to face him and began to walk toward him, his steps more controlled than Misaki's, docile and shorter.

Was it ridiculous? It had been just a week, and it could have been more. They have been apart for longer than this. Perhaps the distance only made matters worse, if he wanted to put it that way. Anyhow, when Saruhiko walked to him, it felt like nothing and nobody else around him existed, the dark, slim contour of Saruhiko’s body standing out like an onyx against sand while everything around him turned into mere white background. It almost made Misaki think about those shoujo manga he sometimes saw his classmates so engrossed in, except there weren’t any sparkles or cheesy dialogues, but there was Saruhiko, and when he finally reached him, he found he’d missed craning his neck upwards a little to look up at him and reassert that the eleven — turned ten, by the fucking way — centimeters of difference were still there.

His hands — Misaki didn’t know what to do with them. The tip of Saruhiko’s nose was stained an adorable pink from the chilly air outside, and Misaki wanted to touch it when he realized he really was about to, stopping himself before his right hand could meet the blush in his boyfriend’s left cheek.

Right, they were in public, he remembered.

For a brief instant, his fingers remained suspended in mid-air before he finally curled them into a fist, letting his knuckles bump gently against Saruhiko’s left shoulder as he said, “Welcome back, Saruhiko.”

Saruhiko kept their eyes connected for a moment before tilting his head and biting the inside of his lip, like he was deliberately trying not to smile _too much_ ; the hint was there, though, and it was hard for Misaki to miss it after all this time. He didn’t miss the way the muscles in Saruhiko’s face relaxed, either, his shoulders slumping down as the dark blue in his gaze disappeared behind those heavy, shadowed eyelids.

“Mm, I’m back,” Saruhiko said at last, the corners of his mouth eventually relenting to give away a tiny smile, and because their greeting wasn’t theirs if they didn’t compliment the other in the most lovely, romantic way, “You made it through a week without me. Congratulations.”

Misaki grinned; hearing that voice in person felt good, too — no, it felt fucking _fantastic_. “You, too,” he countered, his gaze drawn to the pair of inky lashes caressing the circles under Saruhiko’s eyes, the purplish shade beneath them almost mingling with the flush in his cheeks. It was a sight he missed, not one he took pleasure in, nevertheless. “Anything else?”

Saruhiko snorted softly and raised his hand from the confines of his pocket, enclosing his fingers around Misaki’s fist. “This place is big. I’m surprised you knew where to find me.”

“Y-yeah, well, I gave you my word, didn’t I? And I kinda got some help, and...” Misaki paused, relishing the pleasant lightness in his chest; half of it because Saruhiko’s skin was warm, half because they were finally touching. “I missed you, y’know.”

Saruhiko simply hummed and ran his thumb across Misaki’s knuckles gently, and Misaki basked in that little contact for a brief moment, until his gaze dropped lower and Saruhiko’s hand caught his eye, his smile faltering. A few of his fingers were red, not red-from-the-cold red, but literally a pinkish-red from the middle to the top and covered by weird marks a few shades darker than his skin.

_Don’t tell me you guys are starting to use guns..._

Misaki’s eyebrows turned down in a slight frown; as far as he knew, regular meetings didn’t require their members to engage in physical confrontations of any sort.

_Because of the... the... the recoil — was it? Or some shit like that..._

“Are you hurt somewhere?” he asked and swallowed the small tinge of anxiousness building up within his throat as he pulled his fist away and took Saruhiko’s hand and turned it over, inspecting his palm. “You stuck your fingers into a grinder or something?” he joked. “What happened?”

Saruhiko opened his eyes and looked back at him with a sort of guarded ambivalence, his eyelids widening the slightest bit as he dragged his gaze to their hands, and then back to Misaki. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and pressed his lips back together.

Misaki raised an eyebrow, mildly puzzled. Now that the initial excitement wasn’t clouding his sight, he was able to see the expression before him more clearly and it wasn’t hard to tell Saruhiko’s eyes had seen a long night and that he kind of looked more fed up with the universe. Half the sudden gloominess that settled over his face was owed to his exhaustion, Misaki guessed, the other half was something he couldn’t put his nail on, a kind of strange tension filling the air between them that Misaki wasn’t able to unscramble until Saruhiko lowered his gaze unexpectedly, only for his eyes to trail over Misaki’s body, taking him in fully and thoroughly — from the tip of his boots and back to his face, long enough to bathe Misaki in sudden waves of awful self-consciousness.

Something seemed to _click_ afterwards. Misaki felt his neck and cheeks heat up almost instantly, suddenly hyper aware of their reunion — no longer imaginary, but physical and real — as the ghost of the _need_ that he’d felt the night before and managed to ignore for most of the day resurfaced in his mind with relentless resolve. He swallowed hard, briefly wondering how he was supposed to deal with the... consequences of all of _that_ , or if he was supposed to bring the subject up at some point.

The scrutinizing eyebrow that arched over the frame of Saruhiko’s glasses — like he was failing to comprehend what had Misaki so restless — roused a tingling in Misaki’s stomach. Still holding Saruhiko’s hand awkwardly, deciding it would be even more awkward if he let go, he raised his other arm to rub the back of his head nervously.

“Right, uh...” Unable to hold Saruhiko’s stare, Misaki looked away, eyes fixing on some random stain on the floor as he willed to force the words out of him, his cheeks burning up. “About... what happened...”

A pause. “What?” Saruhiko asked.

Misaki groaned to himself, beginning to regret taking the initiative. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted the other to know, honestly. They had done more than listen to each other moan in arousal — had touched, kissed and licked, felt fullness and emptiness, trembled in heat and shivered in the aftermath, all the while staring at each other directly, so Misaki didn’t know where the sudden discomfiture was coming from.

“I-I mean...” He inhaled sharply and bit his lips in indecision as he curled his fingers around his sweaty neck. “You know — I mean last night. I... that was—”

There was a fleeting moment of silence, and then, “Ah. What about it?”

_S-Seriously?!_

Misaki’s eyes widened. His head snapped right back up, meeting Saruhiko’s gaze with an exasperated, dubious look. “What’d you mean by that?”

He didn’t know what kind of reaction to expect, but that wasn’t it.

Wasn’t it... natural? To voice their opinions to each other, to be explicit about what they liked and — he doubted it, but — disliked... However, Saruhiko appeared to be immune to that, seemingly unaffected by Misaki’s inner turmoil. Instead, he was studying the redhead with a steely gaze, and the longer Misaki stared back at him, the more dry his mouth became.

A glint of something dark then edged into that unreadable yet determined look, bearing the desire to say something, do something, yet containing itself, and Misaki thought he recognized the weight behind the heavy-lidded eyes fixed on his.

He didn’t know if he liked being the only one visibly agitated, or whether to be pissed or... slightly turned on.

All he was given in turn was another instant of silence before Saruhiko flipped his own hand back over, his long fingers curling around the base of Misaki’s, and squeezing gently.

“Saruhiko?” Misaki asked tentatively, the tender grip taking him aback slightly. Transfixed, he didn’t have a chance to react and ask more though, and the next moment he was being held firmly and dragged away by the wrist as if he was part of his boyfriend’s luggage. “Woah!” he squeaked in surprise, his gaze shifting from the hand firmly clasped around him to the back of Saruhiko’s head.

Turning to glance behind them, he realized that Saruhiko was making his way somewhere further into the lobby, the distance between them and the exit getting larger with each hasty step.

“You forgot something?” Misaki tried again a couple of steps later, but still got no answer.

Disconcerted and slightly annoyed at the whole new level of _cryptic_ of the situation, he craned his neck over Saruhiko’s shoulder, making out two silvery doors. Saruhiko kept his pace steady as he led them toward the one labeled ‘MEN’ — practically lunging against it when they finally reached it, shouldering it open with a sharp thump loud enough for Misaki to flinch in pain in his stead.

Hell — Saruhiko left a beautiful, lanky but toned man, and came back some freaking American football player.

The door closing on Misaki’s back after he was brought into the washroom turned the ambient music from the lobby a soft murmur. Saruhiko paused for a moment and looked around, confirming it was just the two of them, probably, and then it happened too fast — the instant he abandoned his luggage by the door was the only warning Misaki was given before he was flipped around, his feet stumbling backward as Saruhiko guided him against the tiled wall, his body cushioned by the bulge in his backpack. Before he could respond to the impulsive behavior, Saruhiko’s fingers were grazing his face, the pads of his thumbs sweeping gently over his cheekbones.

“Misaki…” was all he said as he cradled Misaki’s face in his hands, and then he was leaning in and kissing him, chaste, tender, and unhurried, in spite of the solid grip of his fingers.

Misaki let out a yelp that was quickly swallowed by Saruhiko’s mouth, and soon his body buzzed with anticipation and little signs of incoming pleasure, reveling in the feel of Saruhiko’s lips over his own, his eyelids falling shut. He parted his mouth and pushed into the kiss vigorously, his hands shooting up to clutch at the front of Saruhiko’s coat and bring him closer. A content hum reverberated in his throat, goose bumps rising in his arms as he swept his tongue slowly against Saruhiko’s, tasting the faint remnant of minty gum, but mostly home.

It was still the same Saruhiko — everything was the same.

“Saruhiko,” Misaki breathed out as they parted, and then Saruhiko’s lips were back on him, mouthing his bottom lip, his chin and jaw. His fingers trailed down to his neck, one hand settling on Misaki’s shoulder, the other raking through the hair at his nape. “ _Nngh_ …” A delicious shudder coursed through when he let Saruhiko pull his head back, exposing his neck to his boyfriend’s touch, and couldn’t help the helpless, little moans that escaped him when Saruhiko’s mouth grazed the bare skin below his ear and then moved down, opening and closing softly, peppering kisses alongside the flush of his neck. “Hah, S-Saruhiko…”

The slightly painful blurriness edging into the edges of his vision as he opened his eyes and looked up at the bright, white ceiling was all too quickly forgotten, replaced by a hot tingling in his legs that he regretted not being able to fight, because when that signal reached his knees and he felt gravity weigh him down, Saruhiko pushed up against him, easing a leg between his thighs as if to keep him in place. Misaki groaned in delight, wanting to grind against Saruhiko, too, seek more of that friction, and when his thighs closed around Saruhiko’s knee almost on instinct, he couldn’t stop the shaky whimper that purred in his throat.

“ _Hmm_ , hah, f-fuck...”

_Yes, yes._

Everything was the same — exactly as he remembered it.

Misaki wasn’t going to deny this was something he’d missed, too, but when, somehow and despite the amalgam of excitement and pleasure overwhelming his mind, he was able to make out _footsteps_ that weren’t their own, it dawned upon him that this wasn’t the place, and they had to stop, because the memories from last night were rekindling the coil in his belly and weakening his muscles — not to mention having the real Saruhiko pressed up against him — and no way was he taking the metro with a boner. They definitely weren’t going to do _anything_ in a public washroom, either, as ridiculously tempting as it sounded, where anyone could walk in on them.

Right?

Saruhiko didn’t seem to mind, though, and was still kissing the side of his neck, softly and leisurely. Misaki opened his eyes to look at his face, but he barely caught a partial view of his hair. He couldn’t see his expression or tell if he was hard, either, but Misaki was slowly getting there, and when he pressed his forehead against Saruhiko’s shoulder and breathed in deeply and the scent of his coat just about matched the smell in his memories, it made the lower region of his body feel _so_ hot and excited because if he got off to Saruhiko’s smell once he could easily do it again and Saruhiko was _so close and he smells so good, oh,_ _fuck_ —

“W-wait... wait, S-Saruhiko...”

The warm breath against his neck drifted away, and then he felt a hand untangle from his hair and Saruhiko slowly letting his forehead fall onto his shoulder, too, as he wrapped his arms around his waist, embracing Misaki tightly.

Well, that had been easy. Smiling fondly, Misaki released his grip on the coat to run his hands soothingly over Saruhiko’s back.

“Hey,” his voice dropped to a shaky murmur, “let’s go home, o-okay?” There was a slow nod against his shoulder, and when Misaki brought a hand up to the back of Saruhiko’s head, it was all soft hair and warmth.

The very vivid resemblance to something very specific from the night before that had made its way to the front of his mind until he could almost feel the texture of hair and that hot mouth wrapped around him instead of his own fist made his fingers from the here and now tense up.

He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath since then, until he felt two hands on his shoulders pulling them apart gently, and he let it all out.

“Misaki,” Saruhiko said, weak and tired, but questioningly still.

Misaki blinked rapidly, his eyes focusing back on Saruhiko. “Ah, y-yeah! Nothing!” he managed with an awkward smile, jerking his hands away from his boyfriend’s hair and back. “Let’s go! Okay?” he exclaimed, a little too eagerly.

Saruhiko raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yeah! Let’s g— _fuck_!”

The door opened with a loud bang. Albeit slightly grateful that they were able to get their hands off each other in time, Misaki still almost jumped out of his skin when several people walked in.

Next, it was him who grabbed Saruhiko’s hand and dragged them out of the washroom.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

The awkward episode on the bus from two days ago that had a good many of the passengers focusing on him like he had the plague and for longer than he usually tolerated wasn’t really comparable to having to avoid letting his thoughts roam free to keep the restraining pressure in his pants to a bearable minimum.

The metro was not that crowded, which was a true relief, but it was still one of the most uncomfortable rides that Misaki had in a long time.

Seated beside him, luggage between his knees, Saruhiko said casually, “I have the day off tomorrow.”

The announcement caught Misaki slightly off-guard, even though he’d expected it. He still didn’t hide his excitement, and turned his head to look at Saruhiko, who had closed his eyes. “Oh, great! I’m glad,” he supposed was the best thing to say, despite the feeling of contentment welling up inside.

“Mm.”

Misaki studied Saruhiko’s face. The usual strain on his forehead was gone, his glasses still on. The tip of his nose was still a bit pink, his breathing even and deep. It didn’t look like he was sleeping, but Misaki knew better than to ask.

“I’ll tell you when we get there, so you can just relax, okay?” Misaki said, smiling fondly, even though he got no answer.

It was a _slightly_ uncomfortable ride now, and the feeling almost completely subdued when at some point a warm hand found his own. Saruhiko wasn’t quite holding him, but closing his hand around Misaki’s pinky and ring fingers instead — like he was too proud to do otherwise but still needed the reassurance.

Misaki bit his lip, his smile growing bigger, and felt his heart clench a little.

He was both relieved and glad to find those hands were just as he remembered them, despite the cuts. Toughened on one side, softer on the back. Skin slightly harder and rougher between his wrist and his pinky from all the times he drew his sword. Fingers long, slim, a bit bony, but not bonier, calloused at the sides from a lifetime of aiming his knives and quickening his pulse.

Allowing his own eyes to slide shut as well until the next stop, he let the ride bring them back home.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

The anticipation bubbling up inside of him made him feel a bit giddy and jittery.

He was fucking nervous, for some reason. He knew the reason.

He had expected Saruhiko to give some kind of sign, but there was _nothing_. Damn, Saruhiko was _too_ quiet.

Misaki looked at him from the corner of his eyes, watching him lean a hand against the wall and bend a knee up to reach the shoelaces of his shoes.

“Hey,” he eventually ventured with a somewhat expectant look as he began to toe off his boots. “Saru—”

“I’m taking a shower.”

“O-okay, um...”

Saruhiko tilted his head up to acknowledge him, but other than that there was no immediate reaction. He looked as calm as when he had his eyes closed, or even more. Misaki coughed, clearing his throat.

“We can... eat later. I have the food ready,” he said, managing a small smile and pointing at the kitchen with his thumb. “You’re hungry, right?”

Saruhiko seemed to consider it for a brief moment, glancing at the kitchen once before muttering a simple, “Fine,” as he eased the last shoe off his heel before retreating to their bedroom with not so much as another word. Misaki watched attentively how his boyfriend shuffled his feet out of the room, having left his coat and sweater and coming out with just his shirt and jeans, to make his way to the bathroom, in a show of weird obedience that had Misaki staring agape for a while, even as the door closed and he heard the water start running.

As if woken up by that particular noise, he took in a quick mouthful of air and almost yelled, pointlessly, “I’ll set the table!”

_Ugh, this is so stupid._

Whatever. He should probably stick to his word and get everything ready, let the distraction try to ease off some of the irrational aggravation eating him up inside. Sighing heavily, he quickly made his way to the bedroom to change into his home clothes, and then to the kitchen counter, glancing sideways at the pan sitting atop the stove waiting for a quick heating-up as he washed his hands. He doubted it was the right time to have a proper dinner, but Saruhiko mentioned having the rest of the weekend off so he could get a sort of break before returning to work the next week — so screw properness. Besides, he doubted his picky boyfriend had anything to eat in the last fourteen hours. They certainly didn’t grab anything from the cafeteria at the airport, either.

The airport.

They hadn’t touched that subject, yet. It was... strange. He supposed that the fact that Saruhiko didn’t look like he was repressing something should be relieving.

What happened there was a... rushed reaction, probably, a total spur-of-the moment thing. That was it! Misaki was well familiar with those, knew what they felt like on his skin.

Impulsive. Wild. Free.

Insatiable.

Carnal.

Hot.

They didn’t raise a trail of feverish tickles when he had them, though; didn’t make his cheeks feel hot; didn’t make him feel... disappointed when they were over, craving for more.

It was nice to feel Saruhiko next to him again, be able to touch him and hear his voice. The impulsive closeness was a very welcomed bonus, too, since Saruhiko didn’t usually initiate anything, but it had felt good, and Misaki almost wanted to forget they were in a public washroom to—

To do... what?

“Aaaah, dammit!”

With an aggravated look on his face, Misaki opened the cabinet, grabbed two glasses and stomped back to the living room, placing them on the table with a firm thump, just careful enough not to break them in the process.

_Fine. So, maybe I screwed up._

Okay, so he’d wanted it — whatever they could have been about to do — but there was no point in dwelling on what didn’t happen, now, was there? It didn’t matter, for fuck’s sake, they had been apart for years, and now they had all the time in the world to spend doing plenty of things together. Funny things. Intense things.

Better-than-phone-sex-things, probably.

That was it. That was what threw him off his balance. As far as he was concerned, phone sex was supposed to be a lot more... _expressive_ — he wasn’t an expert, but he wasn’t a complete clueless virgin, at least not _that_ virgin. He knew things. Sometimes. And apparently, it included a lot of this _sexting_ thing and excessive blabbering to spur the other on in an unceasing, repetitive fashion that would only be considered sexy if one of them happened to have a thing for their lover sounding like some freaking parrot.

That was his honest impression. Misaki didn’t see the appeal in that, but truthfully he didn’t know if he could be affected by it, either, because it was something they skipped. It only took a few questions to get him going — ‘ _what are you doing_ ’, ‘ _what are you thinking about_ ’ — but every word uttered caressed him and filled him like Saruhiko did when it was the real thing.

It had none of that artificial and embarrassing jabbering he’d seen in pornos.

They didn’t do any of that — at least not consciously. It was more... natural, somehow. Saruhiko really had something when he let loose that it was a total feast and a turn on in itself, and there was no need to exaggerate anything to make Misaki lose it and come, honestly.

_I... did it wrong?_

Maybe that was why Saruhiko hadn’t mentioned a word about it. But...

_What if he thinks_ he _did it wrong?!_

“Nnngh... not again, no,” Misaki grumbled through gritted teeth, eyes falling with a frown as he ran a hand through his hair in annoyance. He wasn’t going to let another dumb misunderstanding ruin their reunion. He would definitely talk to him after dinner, demand what there was to demand — hadn’t he told that idiot to say things in a way he could understand them, dammit — and then they could pick up from where they left off, why the hell not.

Misaki would let him, this time. They would kiss more, and touch more, and _fuck_ —

He might even switch the roles, have Saruhiko cornered between him and the wall, turn him around and hug him from behind. Or maybe the other way around, let Saruhiko guide him, move him however he wanted to. He could almost feel the solid heat of Saruhiko’s chest pressing up against his back, and then a pair of arms encircling his waist.

Inhaling deeply, he had to place both hands on the top of the chair in front of him, caught off-guard at the intensity of his fantasies, his heartbeat speeding up.

_Fuck — I’m... I’m getting better at this._

He could almost feel Saruhiko’s... breathing?

“S-Saruhiko?” he asked, reopening his eyes and looking over his shoulder, his cheek instantly meeting with damp strands of dark hair as Saruhiko moved closer to nuzzle the crook of his neck. Stray droplets fell down the tips of Saruhiko’s fringe, sneaking their way down Misaki’s collarbone, making him shiver slightly. The citric scent of the shampoo they shared intensified then, granting a pleasant feeling of homesickness and coziness.

Despite how much he’d told Saruhiko to dry his hair properly the reprimand was all too soon discarded from his mind at the feeling of a more noticeable pressure, lower. Unwinding his arms from Misaki’s waist, Saruhiko buried his fingers firmly into his hips and pulled him back, both of their breath hitching audibly. Misaki bit back a gasp, his senses relishing that contact against the — _Yes, yes_ — firm heat protruding from Saruhiko’s pants, and couldn’t help but push back when Saruhiko curved his back and bent over him slightly, the first sparkles of desire beginning to twist deep within his belly as his backside fit comfortably into Saruhiko’s crotch, accommodating his boyfriend’s erection against his ass on sheer instinct.

“ _Ah_ — S-Saruhiko,” Misaki murmured, voice cracking and head hanging low. Little puffs of hot air pooled into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, pampering his skin with sweet, feverish longing as Saruhiko placed his lips below his ear.

“Misaki,” Saruhiko pressed out between open mouthed kisses, like a vague reminder of what they couldn’t finish before.

“Hah, yeah,” Misaki keened with a breathless whimper, still not being used to Saruhiko’s initiative touch, yet deeply immersed in it. The hands holding him in place loosened momentarily, and Misaki had to bite on his lip to fight back a shudder when one of Saruhiko’s hands pulled the hem of his shirt up to caress his abdomen, his other reaching down between his legs. He could only stare as those deft fingers curled around his thigh, just below his groin. Arching off slowly into the heated body behind him in a catlike fashion, a strangled gasp tore out of his throat as Saruhiko dragged his hand up, running his palm alongside the clothed length of his dick. The reaction earned him an amused ‘ _hmph_ ’ sound.

“Wh-what?”

“No~thing,” Saruhiko’s voice was hot and defiant against Misaki’s neck, and albeit amused, there was still a slight hint of weariness in it, his tongue moving just barely against his teeth as he breathed out every syllable as though he didn’t really feel like speaking. “It’s so easy to get you all worked up, Misaki,” he added then, and Misaki felt like a fool for believing for even a moment that Saruhiko was being all but unpretentious and not his usual self.

Well, the good news was that Saruhiko _was_ being his pretentious, usual self.

The bad news was that Saruhiko was being his pretentious, usual self.

“Sh-shut up. It’s b-because you’re—” Misaki growled weakly, devoid of any actual sense of authority as Saruhiko’s hand gave his dick a little squeeze and traced the outline of the head with the tip of his fingers in lazy, slow motions that resembled the way Misaki did it himself, when he wanted to keep himself entertained, when he did it last night, too. Saruhiko’s breathing, close and wet and invading, brought that particular memory back, pressing insistently against the back of his eyes. “Hah, fuck, what are you—”

“You did it like this, right?”

“Hu-uh?” Misaki swallowed hard as he watched Saruhiko’s hands working on him. Enraptured, he thought there was something vaguely familiar about the dark blue cotton encircling the wrist moving between his legs, about the same fabric brushing his abdomen as Saruhiko’s other hand stroked over his belly.

“Last night.”

“Ah, shit,” Misaki gasped, feeling himself hardening in Saruhiko’s hand as those devious fingers closed more firmly around him through his pants, fueling his arousal.

Misaki’s knuckles pressed into the chair tighter, his breath coming out heavier. He didn’t know whether to be more disappointed or irritated when that delicious warmth all over him was gone, the absence against his back leaving a sour emptiness that had him whining low.

The rest of his protest died in his throat, however, and the sudden grip in his arms made him jolt. Saruhiko was gentle but decisive as he spun him around and guided him toward whatever wall was closest to the table, and Misaki instinctively stumbled backward. Only when they were face to face, he stiffened, suddenly aware of the blood rushing into his face as he blinked his eyes back into focus and saw it—

_Oh, fuck, fuck._

He’d decided against throwing it to the laundry before because he’d been careful enough and he could feel that resolution weighing on him already because that stupid shirt that he’d been gripping so tightly the night before, the same he’d jerked himself off _with_ shamelessly and without giving two fucks, was now wrapped nicely around Saruhiko’s lean body.

_Fuck_ — if Saruhiko _knew_ , Misaki would probably die of humiliation, or from all the blood leaving his limbs and flooding into his face, whichever came first.

It wasn’t like the moment he’d look up those sharp eyes would stare right into his soul and read his mind, yet it somehow felt like that, as idiotic as it sounded, and Misaki wasn’t sure he could look past the hollow of that collarbone, that long neck and rosy lips and piercing, scrutinizing gaze and the whole beauty that was Saruhiko’s face without being reminded of how much he’d still wanted it — what a fantasy couldn’t give him.

It felt like a déjà vu.

“You don’t want to.”

Misaki froze, snapped out of his reverie. “What?” he asked stupidly, raising his head slowly to face Saruhiko’s dozy look.

Without his glasses on, the gaze that met his was soft, a bit sleepy, but unwavering. No hints of any readable emotion sprouted from it as Saruhiko said, “You’re all tense.”

Misaki’s eyes widened. Was he? Certainly, the tension lashing through his body wasn’t the bad kind, but it was laced with something he couldn’t quite explain. Unexpectedness? Surprise? Delight? It wasn’t the first time Saruhiko moved first — _and_ in the same week, _and_ in the same day — but it wasn’t his boyfriend’s forte, either. It definitely wasn’t unwelcomed; Misaki wasn’t complaining, just... assimilating this newfound sensation, letting Saruhiko give him what he was willing to give.

Something soothing and comforting settled in his chest and then he was suddenly aware of the fingers holding his arms in a gentle grip that could easily crumble any time he wanted to.

Misaki parted his lips to speak, but no words made it out of his mouth. Saruhiko raised a skeptical eyebrow, a sort of wariness edging into his eyes as the hold around Misaki’s arms loosened, and Misaki panicked a little, the promise of that moment right there possibly matching or surpassing his fantasies too tempting to push it away, his shaky limbs beginning to tingle with desire.

“It’s nothing!” Misaki forced the words out with a shuddering breath and brought his hands up, cupping the back of Saruhiko’s neck a bit too forcefully before he was leaning forward and kissing him, hard and needy. Saruhiko made a soft, keening noise, and then his hands were back on Misaki’s hips, holding him firmly against his body.

_Ah, fuck it._

Misaki let out a low moan, savoring the closeness and the delicious friction between their lips, and pulled away for a fleeting second to catch a minuscule drop of breath.

“I want to,” he panted against Saruhiko’s lips as they parted. “I want this. You’ve been acting so fucking weird — don’t you fucking dare stop...”

He couldn’t tell what happened next, or what everything was about after that, but the amalgam of sensations latching throughout his skin felt undoubtedly so much better than any imaginary scenario his brain could come up with. It nearly made him wonder if this was his boyfriend, and not some doppelganger that made it out of the impulses of his mind. But Saruhiko’s kisses, heavy and tasting of unyielding desire were the proof, anchoring him back to reality, and Misaki let himself melt in them, eyes falling shut as he parted his lips to allow Saruhiko in, their tongues rolling sinuously together, melding against each other with an untamed grace they only reserved for when they were alone, at home.

Saruhiko pulled back briefly, his lips trailing down to nip along Misaki’s jaw and neck, prompting a sharp gasp from the redhead’s throat before moving up to catch his lips again. Misaki welcomed him back with equal predisposition, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as they both swallowed the best of each other’s taste.

“ _Mmph_!” Misaki’s body jerked when one sly hand moved up his waist to cup the small of his lower back, the other remaining firm on his waist as Saruhiko ground their hips together and pressed his thigh between his parted legs. Whining softly, his back arched in sheer pleasure as he began to buck his hips forward. It wasn’t much the feel of Saruhiko’s erection rubbing against his — well, that too, _obviously_ , mainly — but the raw franticness. They weren’t usually that rash, but the way Saruhiko sought Misaki’s touch, body and mouth was driven by an eagerness utterly devoid of the lethargic contact Misaki was used to and which he often associated his boyfriend with.

The devious hand on his back moved lower to squeeze his ass while the other sneaked beneath his shirt, and Misaki gasped out in delight, his head lolling back against the wall, relishing the soft knuckles skimming over his pelvis. When he forced his eyes open, Saruhiko was staring at him intently, a guarded glint in his eyes as he hooked a finger under the elastic of his waistband, not quite pulling.

Misaki licked his lips, responding to the silent inquiry with a small nod of his head. Letting go of his ass to grab his hip, Saruhiko’s other hand pushed his pants and underwear down his thighs before closing his fingers around Misaki’s cock.

“F-fuck,” Misaki stuttered out, gripping his boyfriend’s shoulders and tipping his head back, his neck a straight line that Saruhiko mouthed softly, a pattern of kisses trailed alongside his throat as his fist slid up and down Misaki’s erection slowly. “ _Nnh_ , Sa-Saru...” he breathed out encouragingly.

The pleased, little chuckle that rumbled in Saruhiko’s throat, probably in response to his honest reaction, made him glower at his boyfriend trough a narrowed gaze and a defiant twitch in his lips — a look that Saruhiko returned with a crooked smirk, seconds before his hand skidded to a halt. Half-confused and half-curious, Misaki tilted his head down when the warmth of Saruhiko’s touch left his body, to find his boyfriend fumbling with the elastic of his own pants and push them down along with his underwear just enough to pull his erection out.

“Huh...” Misaki blinked dreamily, his eyebrows coming down in a weak, questioning frown as he took in the sight before him. “Y-you’re—”

Did Saruhiko have the nerve to tell him it was easy to get _him_ hard?

Unlike him, Saruhiko was definitely harder, almost fully erect and suspiciously slicker. The head of his dick flushed red, and the rest of his length was coated with a moist, sticky sheen, as though he’d been touching himself before. Even through the hot haze of lust, that much was clear, _exhilarating_.

Only when he felt Saruhiko’s hands on his mid thighs, his body hovering closer, he snapped out of it to blink up at him, but Saruhiko wasn’t staring back. Confused and slightly alarmed, Misaki followed his gaze down to their crotches, eyes widening when his boyfriend took his own erection in his hand.

There was no way Saruhiko could enter him from this position if he didn’t lift his leg, or something, and he hadn’t even prepared him yet.

Misaki swallowed hard, striving for a brief moment of temperance. “S-Saru,” he whispered, “w-wait, _ah_ —”

He didn’t bother trying to contain the shiver that spiked down his body as Saruhiko positioned his dick between his thighs.

“Close your legs,” Saruhiko said, pushing forward.

_O-Oh..._

The angle wasn’t even that good, their height didn’t help and their position overall was fucking awkward. Being face to face didn’t work and Saruhiko’s dick pointed downwards instead of straight up, making it impossible to reach for Misaki’s ass — but, _damn_ , the way the whole length still nuzzled his inner thighs and the base of his balls, making soft squelching noises every time it slipped back and forth and rubbed against his skin, made up for it.

Misaki pressed his lips tightly together, forcing himself to focus, and brought his eyes up to his boyfriend’s face. Saruhiko was facing down, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration, his undivided attention focused on their lower halves as he thrust his hips lazily into the new hole formed between Misaki’s legs. Feeling a bit frisky, he squeezed his thighs together, testing out the feeling and eliciting a loud groan from Saruhiko. Their eyes met after a few more thrusts and Saruhiko pulled out all the way and lined them both up into his hand, stroking them languidly.

Saruhiko leaned forward, murmuring breathily, “Misaki...” as his fingers rubbed teasingly over the sensitive tips of their cocks, smearing pre-cum into his hand and sliding it up and down around them in delicious, circling motions.

“ _Nngh_ , there... faster,” Misaki growled against Saruhiko’s ear, and just when he actually considered the possibility of his legs giving up, the need coiling in his groin growing hotter with every touch, there was a restricting pressure holding him back, his knees tensing as Saruhiko closed his fingers hard around the base of his cock.

“Don’t come, yet.”

Groaning softly, Misaki’s forehead fell heavy onto Saruhiko’s shoulder, his eyes closed and lips parted, sucking quick mouthfuls of air back into his lungs. “I-I wasn’t—” he gasped into Saruhiko’s shirt.

“Yeah, right.”

“ _Wasn’t,_ ” Misaki gritted out, not bothering to fight back any further and letting himself be held like that. There was a brief moment of stillness as his breathing turned slow and more or less even, and then Saruhiko pulled back. Misaki’s face was still pressed comfortably into the crook of his neck, and gravity dragged him along, the weight of his head only supported by his neck, hanging low as Saruhiko slid down.

His eyes fluttered open just in time to see his boyfriend dropping to one knee. His belly tightened in sweet anticipation, because Saruhiko was looking up at him through vivid, dark eyes, and when those hands settled on his thighs — a sight that looked too much like last night’s — he wasn’t sure he could last for as long, not with the real, _better_ thing.

“S-Saru?” Misaki asked in a murmur, his mouth falling open when Saruhiko pulled the hem of his shirt up and placed a light kiss below his navel, right before sucking sharply at the delicate skin between his hipbone and his belly — probably hard enough to leave a mark, _surely_ renewing the hickey from exactly a week ago. “Y-yeah,” he urged him on, gripping his boyfriend’s shoulders and squeezing hard when the tip of his cock bumped against Saruhiko’s chin. Saruhiko’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second as he looked up at him, and when Misaki swallowed thickly, his lips curved up in a cocky, little smile.

Misaki frowned. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Saruhiko drawled as he finished pushing Misaki’s pants and underwear down past his knees and all the way to the floor.

“Y-yeah, but you were- _ah, fuck_!” The rest died on his tongue as Saruhiko ran his thumb below his cock, against the ridge between the head and the shaft, and then over the sensitive tip, teasing the slit with slow circles. His breath was warm, his gaze hot and intense, never leaving Misaki’s face as he dragged his tongue from the base to the head. Misaki shuddered and sucked in a sharp breath, a rush of heat staining his cheeks in a last display of self-consciousness as Saruhiko swirled his tongue around the pre-cum beading at the tip, tasting him — or was he tasting himself, or a mix of them both?

_Oh, fuck._

Sitting back on his thighs, Saruhiko didn’t waste any more time and closed his eyes. Misaki could only watch entranced as his cock finally sunk into the constricting, wet heat of that mouth, and let out a broken gasp as Saruhiko sucked hard around the head. The blissful satiation he was so avidly yearning for finally fell upon him, but when it came, he didn’t know what to do with it. Saruhiko guided him instead — one hand found Misaki’s hip, the other fondled his balls as he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head back and forth leisurely from the middle to the tip. The slight scraping of teeth had Misaki biting back a gasp and moaning helplessly — a masochistic detail that his fantasy lacked and had his vision going blurry for a brief instant. His toes curled in promising ecstasy, and he had to focus to keep himself upright and resist the urge to thrust back as Saruhiko enveloped him further into his mouth, his lips dangerously approaching the curls in his pelvis.

“ _Hah,_ s-so good, Saru—”

One of his hands instinctively slid up to hold Saruhiko’s sweaty nape and keep his head in place gently. Not quite pulling, but digging his fingers into the skin just enough in a kind of implicit insurance, Misaki still let the other set the rhythm and take him in as far as he could, while his other hand moved up to grapple at Saruhiko’s damp hair, thinking, wishing, that when Saruhiko rested both of his hands on his thighs, the feeling of those fingers drawing him further into the inviting wetness of his mouth was not something he was making up.

Little spasms of pleasure coursed through his body as Saruhiko only took him deeper, until Misaki could feel the tip of his nose against his belly and the head of his dick nudging the back of his throat.

“ _Agh_ , f-fuck, S-Saruhiko, I’m—” he gritted out. Saruhiko trembled around him, eyes clenched shut and jaw tensed as he rested Misaki’s length on his tongue for a moment, and then began to pull his head back. With some effort, Misaki slowly released his grip, watching his cock leave Saruhiko’s mouth little by little, a mix of pre-cum and drool connecting the tip with his lips.

Saruhiko coughed and panted briefly for air, allowing himself just a fleeting pause to breathe, his shoulders rising and falling with his ragged panting. Misaki forced himself to blink away the carnal haze clouding his sight in time to see Saruhiko wrapping his fingers around himself, giving his aching erection a few rapid strokes before he swallowed thickly and his lips wrapped around Misaki’s cock again, his tongue working sinuously underneath his length with a keen enthusiasm that almost made Misaki want to laugh — if he wasn’t drowning in his own little moans — because for someone who spoke with such lazy disinterest, his stupid mouth was really _something_. Always amazing. Always knowing where to touch to make him moan and cry out, where to lick, when to scratch, and how.

Saruhiko hummed, and the moan vibrating within his throat filled Misaki’s belly with a swirling need that had him sensing too much, too fast, a long whine escaping his lips while Saruhiko was almost soundless, except for the little ‘ _ah_ ’s he made when he pulled back to breathe and swallow Misaki up again. The obscene, slurping noises mingled with their breathing and the wet sound of Saruhiko’s hand pumping up and down his erection filled the rest of the room — and Misaki responded to all of that. _I love you_ , biting his lip. _You’re amazing_ , scraping his nails against Saruhiko’s nape. _Feels good_ , bucking his hips forward. He didn’t want this to end.

His fingers were shaking as he brought them to Saruhiko’s face, devouring the sight with his senses and burning his expression the best he could into his mind as he took in those flushed cheeks, the skin beneath them smooth and hot and fading into a pink hue, and the reddened flesh of Saruhiko’s swollen lips stretched wide around him. Strangely emboldened by all that, his hand moved in a trance as he traced his thumb over the slick spot where they were connected, grazing the side of his cock and the wet contour of Saruhiko’s lips. He watched almost in fascination the bubble of something white and dense threatening to make its way through the abrasion between the corner of Saruhiko’s mouth and his dick, and the trickle of saliva hanging from his lower lip and dripping down his chin slowly.

The gesture earned Misaki a momentary silence, and then the loud, strangled purr that vibrated around him snapped his mind back to the moment. Crashing back down to reality, his breath hitched in his chest, feeling extremely self-conscious when his vision regained its focus and it dawned to him what he was doing.

“S-sorry! I was—” Misaki stammered, jerking his hand away as though he’d been caught off-guard doing something he shouldn’t have, but the scene before his eyes didn’t turn any less amazing — something about the way Saruhiko’s eyes were fixed on his, slightly tearful and shimmering, pupils blown so wide beneath those long eyelashes that Misaki couldn’t even see blue anymore, added a new wave of arousal on top of the fire coiling deep in his groin and almost ready to burst.

Saruhiko breathed heavily through his nose, dampening Misaki’s length with warm puffs of air as he regarded him with a sleepier, unfocused look. Without further warning, he squeezed his eyes shut and took Misaki deeper. The sudden suction had Misaki crying out and tossing his head back against the wall, his body trembling in delight. Roused by Saruhiko’s demanding zeal, he started rocking his hips forward and tangled his fingers in Saruhiko’s hair, pushing his face closer, closer, for more contact, _more_ —

“Ah, f-fuck, Saruhiko. I’m... I’m there, _a-ah_ —” A sharp gasp tore from his throat as his thrusts grew more erratic, loud and desperate, and then he was feeling it — his skin blazing up, flesh prickling and cock throbbing with imminent release. “C-comin’, fuck, I’m comin’,” he warned, pleaded, almost, choking on a sharp gasp when he felt a finger between his ass cheeks, circling his hole teasingly. And despite knowing what was coming next, when Saruhiko pushed the tip inside the sensation was immediate and the burning pleasure rippling through his body impossible to drag out any longer, at last. “F-fuck!”

Misaki’s vision turned dizzy and silver with pleasure as he bent forward with clenched teeth and pressed his fingers firmly into his boyfriend’s scalp, keeping his head still as he rode out his climax and came with a strangled grunt, hard and overwhelmed inside Saruhiko’s mouth. His body tensed up and his hips shook in spastic, little jerks as wave after wave of thick, wet heat pulsed through his cock and spurted straight down Saruhiko’s throat — and the sensation was _amazing_.

Feeling his boyfriend tremble, Misaki let go of his hair but Saruhiko’s lips remained closed around the head of his dick until he was almost completely spent and everything Misaki had to give was swallowed up. A last shudder shot through him when Saruhiko’s mouth massaged the tip one last time before he pulled back, coughing a few times to accommodate Misaki’s essence in his throat.

“Hah, shit, fuck.” Breathing heavily, but satisfied, Misaki brought a hand up, pushing his bangs back and swiping away the sweat on his forehead, his vision dancing between the edge of blurriness and detailed clarity as he focused on Saruhiko’s look.

The thick, translucent thread of drool and cum still connecting his cock with those lips was an obscene sight he didn’t think he would find alluring, at all, but he did —  including when Saruhiko’s head hung low, panting heavily as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Even after what they had done, Misaki still felt a hypocritical heat rising to his cheeks.

Relishing the way his skin tingled with relief, he let himself slump almost boneless against the wall, confident that the corner of his brain powering his muscles would remain sober enough to keep his feet firmly planted on the floor while he caught his breath.

Only when he dragged his eyes down, gaze following the rest of his release that didn’t make it to Saruhiko’s mouth and pooled on the floor, he noticed that Saruhiko hadn’t come yet and was still hard.

“S-Saruhiko...”

Saruhiko tilted his head up slightly, returning his gaze for a moment. Any suggestion Misaki could have offered vanished before he could even think of it as Saruhiko dropped forward onto both of his knees, one hand braced against the floor to keep himself steady, the other wrapped around his dick and tugging hard. He was voiceless, save for the broken pants spilling from his mouth and the sharp intakes of air slipping through the gaps of his tensed teeth. His eyes fell closed and his eyebrows furrowed, focused. Misaki’s heart fluttered, recognizing the familiar, little crease in Saruhiko’s forehead — a telltale expression he always wore when he was close — and taking the chance to drink it all thoroughly, his gaze dropping lower to take in the rest of his boyfriend’s expression with drunken fascination.

Saruhiko’s cheeks were red, his lips puffed and swollen and Misaki couldn’t help but want to touch all of that. Reaching forward, he stroked the smooth surface of Saruhiko’s face with the tip of his fingers. His boyfriend opened his eyes meekly and dreamily in response, but never stopped to look up at him.

Slowly, tentatively, and lost in the color of the blood swirling beneath that soft skin, Misaki found himself caressing the outline of Saruhiko’s mouth, his fingers hovering above the plump flesh of his lips. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he wasn’t ready for Saruhiko to tilt his head toward them almost shyly, and seek them, his lips parting slightly. Licking his dry lips, Misaki watched mesmerized as Saruhiko closed his eyes and welcomed two of his fingers into his mouth.

Saruhiko stilled for a moment, deliberately, as if he was seeing if he liked the way they felt in his mouth. He might have decided he did, because the next moment he was lapping and nibbling at them.

Misaki’s throat closed up, unable to form anything that wasn’t a whine and nearly gasping at the new sensation — he’d never done this. His fingers felt extremely slick and gooey. The ghostly remains of his release bathed Saruhiko’s mouth with a viscous coating that made everything feel lewdly soft. It was... erotic, and it made it all the more easy for Saruhiko’s tongue to curl over them, and Misaki helped him, holding his tongue gently between his index and middle fingers and rubbing them against the wet muscle.

“W-woah,” he couldn’t help but laugh softly, his lips curving up fondly and in admiration. “Y-your mouth... feels amazing, Saruhiko,” he said. Barely a few seconds later, Saruhiko made a strangled, whimpering sound, and Misaki winced in pain when he felt teeth digging firmly into his fingers, but he never pulled away, wanting nothing more than to force more of those little moans out of Saruhiko’s throat — if a little pain was the price to pay and Saruhiko’s muffled voice whining ‘ _M’saki_ ’s as he bit down on his fingers felt like a déjà vu, he didn’t dwell on it.

The veins in Saruhiko’s hand stood out prominently as he pumped himself in desperate strokes to completion, and with a last frenzied jerk his body went rigid. Enthralled, Misaki watched the thick trickles of cum leaking from the red, swollen tip of his cock — some of it pooling between his feet, some dribbling down the white-knuckled fist gripping his length.

A moment later, his mouth went slack and Misaki pulled his fingers out, bitten and trembling and red from Saruhiko’s teeth.

The silence that followed after was softened by the echo of their pants and the faltered rhythm of their breathing. They were sticky with sweat and hot, their hands sticky and gross, but when Saruhiko slumped forward and pressed his cheek against Misaki’s thigh, breathing warm and fast over his skin, Misaki didn’t find any reason not to let him. He couldn’t help the affectionate, protective instinct latching on his chest, too strong and natural to ignore, and used his free hand to hold the weight of Saruhiko’s head in his hands — feeling it heavy and vulnerable like putty in his fingers — as he slid down the wall with shaky limbs, shifting slowly to one side to avoid the mess of their release beneath them. His backside touched the floor, his legs at either sides of Saruhiko.

_Ah, fuck it._

Without any care given, he wiped his hand on his shirt, and careful not to get them any more dirty than they were — although it was kind of unimportant, at this point — he circled his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pulled him in, cradling his head into his chest and nuzzling his hair.

It was a bit embarrassing, staying so close like this with their lower bodies naked and exposed somewhere other than their bed, but the habit of cuddling, or almost-cuddling, or me-cuddling-and-you-rolling-your-eyes-but-also-cuddling, was always hard to shake. And this was all about Saruhiko, after all. Misaki deemed it a little unfair, that he let him do practically everything.

Well, there went Misaki’s concerns. Everything turned out just fine, in the end. More than fine.

He wasn’t ready for their embrace to be over, so when Saruhiko pulled back, Misaki kept his hold on him, his body following and leaning forward unconsciously.

“Misaki.”

“Mm...”

“Let go, already.”

“Mm... what?” Misaki asked, blinking incredulously.

“I’m fine,” Saruhiko muttered, but Misaki relaxed and merely smiled softly at that, not intending to move. “Misaki.”

“Jus’ a minute.”

He didn’t know if Saruhiko was actually counting, but after not too long, he continued, “Misaki. I’m tired.”

A few seconds later, two fingers pinched his waist.

“Fuck!” Misaki moved away abruptly, removing his arms from Saruhiko’s body and wrapping them around his abdomen by reflex. They sat face to face, staring at each other for a few seconds until Saruhiko looked down and fixed his gaze on Misaki’s crotch for a moment, making Misaki’s cheeks heat up slightly.

He then regarded his own mess and held his hand in front of him. A grimace twisted the corner of his lips as he casually tucked his dick inside his underwear. “We have to clean up,” he said with a sigh, unperturbed.

“Ah, y-yeah,” Misaki stammered, mimicking his boyfriend and hastily raising his hips enough to pull his pants up.

He took a brief moment to check Saruhiko’s state afterwards, his eyes roaming his clothed body from head to toes, lingering just a bit longer on his shirt.

The same two fingers from before pinched his knee, making him jump.

“ _Fuck_ — Saruhiko?!”

“You were spacing out.”

“Ah.” Misaki blinked at him and blushed slightly, scratching his neck. “Sorry.”

Saruhiko squinted at him with cautious eyes. “What is it?”

Misaki’s eyebrows quirked up slightly, caught off-guard. For a moment, he didn't know what to say, but as he met the other’s eyes and took in his somewhat peaceful look, his lips pressed into a tiny smile. He reached up to cup Saruhiko’s cheek and leaned forward, feeling Saruhiko relax as he kissed him lightly. The faint taste of himself lingered on his tongue when they pulled back and he licked his lips clean.

“Nothing.” Misaki grinned a bit sheepishly as he sat back.

“You can get the shower ready, then,” Saruhiko said as he leaned back, stretching his neck. “The water should still be warm enough for the both of us.” Misaki only stared at him, head tilted slightly to the side. At the irresponsive reaction, Saruhiko rolled his eyes. “I said, I could use a shower, too.”

Misaki raised an eyebrow, half-asking, half-rephrasing, “You’re coming with me.”

“Maybe I am.”

Okay. Misaki wasn’t against that. He’ll take care of the mess on the floor later.

“I wasn’t there that long,” Saruhiko said, looking away, and now that he mentioned it... “I was going to need another, anyway,” he added with a dismissive shrug, one of his hands absentmindedly playing with the hem of his sweatpants.

_You little..._

“R-right.” Something about... that, and being like this after such a good _mess_ made Misaki’s chest swell in pride. ‘ _What the hell happened in America?_ ’ he almost wanted to ask, but refrained, not wanting to ruin the moment.

He ended up kind of ruining the moment, anyway, when he reached for Saruhiko’s fingers and felt the moist stickiness there, and jerked his hand away without thinking. “Fuck.”

“Don’t be so noisy,” Saruhiko complained, his eyebrows pulling down.

“I-It just caught me off-guard — is all!”

Saruhiko stared at him dumbly for a couple of seconds. “You’re so weird, Misaki.”

“Shut up.” As if to redeem himself, he grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and held it tightly in a challenging way as he pulled them up.

“Misaki, wait—”

It felt like lifting lead.

There was a sudden thud on the floor, and then he felt something gripping his leg. When he turned and looked down, slightly baffled, Saruhiko was still kneeling on the floor, with his face pressed awkwardly against Misaki’s thigh, his other hand clutching the redhead’s calf for support.

“Saruhiko?”

Speechless, Misaki heard Saruhiko click his tongue and watched him press a hand against the wall as he tried to stand, only to lose his balance and stumble again, falling on his knee.

“Can you stand? Are your legs...”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue again and looked away, facing down. “Don’t.”

Misaki felt a rush of warmth rising in his chest as he waited in soothing silence, the one that said a lot without needing any words.

He waited for him for a week. He could wait a few minutes more.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

Sharing the shower like they did sometimes didn’t imply anything more than that. When Misaki complained about his fingers stinging and hurting because of Saruhiko ‘overdoing it’, he expected him to kiss them better. He didn’t.

They might have still kissed, though, teased each other lightly, grabbed new clothes — again, but this included Saruhiko’s, too — before they found themselves in bed. Misaki couldn’t remember how they got there, but he’d found himself just as exhausted as the man sleeping soundly by his side.

He remembered Saruhiko smirking when he lay down and said ‘ _You changed the sheets_ ’ and the way he sputtered but managed to avoid replying and distract them both with a movie. Above all, the rhythm of Saruhiko’s breathing was just as he’d kept it in his memory, although he thought he remembered feeling, hearing Saruhiko wake up with a small gasp in the middle of the night and scooting closer to him afterwards.

When Misaki opened his eyes, the room was bathed in the early spring sunlight leaking through the old blinds, some of it striking directly on his face. Saruhiko had better luck, choosing the side of the bed that was farthest from the window and shielding himself from the dawn behind Misaki’s body.

Misaki tried to roll over, finding he couldn’t move that much with Saruhiko’s chest pressed firmly against his back. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

He placed his hand atop the one near his belly, taking a moment to appreciate them while a beam of light was still pointing straight at them.

Hands slim and agile. Veined yet soft on the back. The marks on those long fingers were still there, now more pink than pinkish-red, while the ones on Misaki’s were more noticeable, new and—

_Wait—_

He regarded the bites on his own, more noticeable and pinkish-redder than whatever his skin tone was.

Then he looked at Saruhiko’s, then back at his.

_F-freaking biter..._

As if reacting to it, Saruhiko sighed deeply, his body snuggling up closer, and Misaki gave in and linked their fingers together, leaning into the warmth at his back; wondering if it made any sense for him to feel as though he too had gone and come back home; thinking, _Yeah, it’s all right, we’re back_.

 

\- - - - - - - - - -

 

> _Saruhiko has changed his screen name to_ _★_ _Saruhiko_ _★_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It just couldn't end without a cheesy conclusion :') ~~and wow I don't know why I feel that was a really long blowjob. My bad.~~ I hope y'all enjoyed! ^^
> 
> This chapter was beta-read by Rivu! Thank you! ♥  
> Psst, also thanks xladysaya for the lil' help!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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